Stenr Evarinya
by FlameWing41
Summary: Eragon finds a stone, which leads him on a great adventure full of betrayal, hardship, and love.  Where will it end?  What will happen?  Read to find out...   Rating is T because people get killed sometimes and i'm just being safe.
1. Seeking the Gem

In a deep, cold, dark valley in the heart of Alagaesia that no one ever passes through lies a lone pillar of sediment and stone formed by the deep muddy river that runs on either side. In it rests a powerful gem, more power than any item that the empire has ever seen. More power than any item that ever has existed

In an adjacent valley, flowing almost literally with milk and honey, the Dragon Rider Eragon searched for this very stone. The valley was full of color, for it was autumn and the trees were all decorated in bright yellow, orange, and red, and it was rich in life all around. The perfect place for the most beautiful, most powerful object, he had thought.

After much searching, however, he had come to this conclusion: the gem was not here. He and Saphira had searched almost literally everywhere and had not found a thing. Eragon was beginning to get more and more angry at himself and at the world.

_Eragon,_ Saphira called gently, her voice soft and beautiful, _do not get upset. There is another valley just over this next mountain. Perhaps the gem lies there._

_And perhaps Galbatorix already has it locked away somewhere, _Eragon replied.

_Perhaps._

He climbed onto Saphira anyway and she shot up into the sky and began heading over the mountain nearest them. As they reached the other side, he found a sad sight before him. This valley was nothing but a barren, inhospitable wasteland filled with rock and stone. A dark, murky river ran through it, spitting and churning as it went.

_Saphira, I don't like it here._

_Nor do I, little one. It feels like a place of death._

_Aye._

Eragon stared so intently at the ground in his nervousness; he did not see the pillar that loomed up in front of him. Saphira stopped and stared at it, then breathed on it.

_Saphira?_ He questioned her. Without her answering, he figured out why she had done it. This was the place where the gem lay. In fact, there it lay inside a small hole where Saphira had cleared the dirt and rock. It shined its deep red color out at them, making the scales on Saphira's neck shimmer slightly. Eragon breathed deeply.

He had found it.


	2. Defying the Rules

"Why would you do this?" Nasuada cried. Eragon could understand that she thought his search had been dangerous, but not crazy. He could have taken care of himself even without Saphira there watching every angle.

"I apologize, my lady. I did not see that this would be something that would upset-

"Oh save it!" She snapped, interrupting him. "You just can't seem to realize that the decisions you make can be quite important, no matter how little they seem. This is a dangerous gemstone, powerful and difficult to control!" She shoved it at him in anger. It was difficult for him to control? Eragon was beginning to wonder how sane Nasuada was. He was not cocky or full of himself, but any power a stone could contain was a power he could handle.

"According to Angela, that gemstone is called… Stenr Evarinya and its power is beyond the knowledge of anyone."

It was just a stone. But maybe it was something more than a stone. There was only one way he could know.

"I must figure out what it does," he said determinedly.

"Eragon, I will not force you to get rid of this stone, but I hope you take into consideration the risks to you and to all of Alagaesia. I know you can't promise that you'll be careful, and you shouldn't; you have a bad habit of making promises you can't keep. Just think before you act."

"I will."

Eragon lifted the tent flap and exited Nasuada's pavilion.

_You are going to ignore what she wishes_. Saphira landed in front of him

_She never said I couldn't find out what it does._

_Oh little one, _Saphira complained.


	3. Studying the Stone

It was a dark and stormy night, but all was otherwise silent. All was unlit, and all the people were sleeping. All, that is, except Eragon. He sat up in his tent; blankets wrapped around him, he stared at the stone, breathing heavily. Its color gave off so much red glow that he did not even need light. Saphira was lying outside the door of the tent, tired from the long day. He still, however, silently spoke with her at nearly every second, so it was impossible to get any sleep.

The best thing for him to do, he decided, was to try and figure out all he could about the stone without entering it with his mind. It seemed much less dangerous that way, because he just couldn't risk allowing the gemstone's power to do possible damage to him. He was determined to find the secret to this unrelenting gemstone.

He stared at the red rock for two hours.

_Little one, haven't you been studying that stone long enough? _Saphira asked tiredly.

_Aye, I suppose I have._ He decided it was time to move on with it. "Alright then, rock," he said nervously as well as stupidly. Slowly he reached out with a tendril of his mind toward it. As soon as he touched it, he felt contact, another presence. He attacked in prepared retaliation, but stopped instantly as he realized it was not hurting him. In fact, it felt friendly and warm… and familiar.

It rubbed over his mind pleasantly and calmly, making him smile, though he did not know it had. Still, the touch was familiar, and he could not figure out why. Then he had it: it was like Saphira. It was like when he was talking to Saphira-but different, because their relationship was different.

-What are you-

-I am…


	4. Believing the Voice

-I am…- it said, and paused, as though it was unwilling to tell him. –I am Saphira, Brom's dragon.-

Eragon nearly slapped himself. Why hadn't he thought of it before? This was an Eldunari, and allegedly that of Brom's dragon Saphira. But was he to believe that? What if this was some sort of trick-which it very well could have been? He thought for a moment, and something told him that it was safe, as well as important, to speak with what was truthfully Saphira, the long dead dragon of Brom, trapped in her Eldunari forever.

-Yes, you are a smart one just like your father. You are as stubborn as your father was, too. These are sad times though, that so much is pressed on you.-

-What do you mean? - Eragon asked quietly.

-You must go to Petrovya, in Surda. Someone awaits you there.-

-Who? - He wondered, slightly angered by its secretiveness.

-A familiar man. - That Saphira said bluntly. It said no more, and Eragon left its presence. Exiting the tent, he climbed on to Saphira's back and just sat there, rubbing between her scales. A light misty smoke twirled out of his Saphira's nostrils.

_Well, _he asked Saphira playfully, _what say you, oh mighty dragon?_

_I say keep up what you are doing right now, _she replied.

_I mean about going to Petrovya. I've heard it is dangerous there. But I want to go._

_Well, little one, play with fire and get burned. Be cautious with it, and look at the things it can do. _


	5. Following the Way

"I see you got involved with it anyway, Eragon," Nasuada sighed. "Well, it was to be expected, because I did not take it away from you. Eragon, sometimes you are just like a little five-year-old boy. Go ahead and follow this piece of rock, just make it out alive."

"I'll try, but I can promise you nothing," he replied.

"That's a good choice to make."

Eragon brushed back the tent flap as he left, but before he exited, he looked back with blinking, childish puppy dog eyes, if for no other reason, Nasuada assumed, than to make her feel better. She shook her head. Sometimes he could be so naïve. Yet other times he was so grown up, far beyond the years of anyone she knew, and behind him.

He could sense someone following him, though he couldn't hear a sound or see even a shadow. Eragon glanced cautiously around him. Saphira was hunting, and in his nervousness, he was not waiting for her or coming with her. But it had gone far enough. He pulled out his sword, Brisingr, and faced the danger behind him, whatever it was.

Then, a slight rustling in the trees, and a figure jumped out and landed in front of him, sword drawn. He attempted to see a face in the dark shadow, but it was useless in the absolute darkness. Afraid to use magic in case of a similar attack, he waited in silence.

The seconds seemed like hours, and the moon finally showed from behind a cloud. It shone brightly on the flawless skin of Arya, her face cocky.

"You are stupid to come out her by yourself, Eragon," she said, keeping her eyes steady.

Despite his delight in her presence there, he disagreed. "I can do this myself, Arya."

"I am coming with you for my own reasons, anyway. Petrovya is about two days away, even faster with Saphira. If we leave at dawn tomorrow, we'll be there by dusk of the next day."

Eragon did not argue with her anymore, but sat down and made a fire quickly. They sat against Saphira, and Eragon gazed into the flames. Petrovya, a city of danger. He had seen danger before, and in much larger cases. Why would this be any more perilous?

"Eragon, who I this man you seek?" Arya asked after awhile.

"I don't know." He replied. He sat quietly after that and waited for sleep to come.


	6. Losing the Fight

Petrovya was known as a city full of danger, a city where people were short tempered and quick to fight. They were also said to be quick to kill. Eragon had heard all the stories from all the travelers that had passed through Carvahall as he had grown up. Each one said the same thing: Petrovya was a place where no one wished to travel unless they were leaving.

He glanced behind him at Arya, who had her arms wrapped loosely around his waist. Her hair blew back in the wind as they flew through the air on Saphira. She simply blinked at him and fell back into deep thought.

_Am I doing the right thing, Saphira?_ He asked suddenly, surprising himself.

_Little one, I find you are rarely doing what I wish the right thing was. Here we are again, flying headfirst into something dangerous without any knowledge of what lies ahead and searching for a man that we still don't know for sure exists. Then you ask me if you are doing the right thing and I want to tell you no. I want to say, no little one, no Eragon, it's too dangerous and you don't have enough information. But I don't know. Maybe it will all work out for the best._

_ Oh, Saphira, _Eragon said, smiling sadly to himself.

_And maybe, just maybe, I'll have to eat this elusive man. A fresh tasty snack that would be._

_ Saphira._ He paused, knowing she knew what he wanted to say. _Just remind me to stay on your side of a fight._ It remained as silent playful banter like that for quite some time.

They arrived in Petrovya at exactly the time Arya had predicted. Planning to land just outside the city, Saphira circled wide before setting down on the leaf-covered clearing, shaking the ground just slightly as she went.

Arya jumped smoothly off Saphira and Eragon followed almost as smoothly. "The gates will be closed now," he said. "We'll have to wait until tomorrow to get in." Arya nodded, threw some brush on the ground, and started an inconspicuous fire.

They sat in silence, a popular thing lately, for a very long time. Eragon stared at the fire, wondering what was going to happen next. He looked up to find Arya staring at him.

"Eragon," she asked him quietly. "What did the Eldunari look like?" That was a strange question, and he realized for the first time that he still had it with him. He pulled it out of his bag and showed it to her. "You are not telling me the truth," she said.

"Of course I am," Eragon argued.

"The Saphira you speak of- this cannot be her Eldunari." Eragon simply stared at her oddly. "No," she told him again.

"But it-

"This cannot be her Eldunari." She repeated one more time. "In fact, this is not a heart of hearts at all."

Eragon's mind reeled. It had lied. All that the alleged Eldunari of Brom's dragon had said was false. That meant that he was standing right in the center of a trap that was just about to snap shut. He heard his name called. It was Arya.

"Eragon," she whispered harshly. "I can sense the trap now. Maybe they haven't quite found us yet.

They instantly put the fire out and remained absolutely quiet and still. A couple of bushes don't quite hide a dragon the way they hide a person or two. They stayed completely still.

A dark, misshapen figure lunged out of the brush at them. It was not human, but something else- a horrible creature, indescribable. It reached out its sharp claws and slashed Arya across her arms and face. She went down. It then went after Eragon, bloody claws grabbing, searching for flesh to sink into. Eragon took out his sword and sliced off the hand of the beast. To his horror, a larger hand with sharper claws grew in its place.

Saphira tried to help, if only to step on the monster, but she could not move more than a few feet.

_He has horribly strong magic. Be careful, Eragon._ Eragon nearly passed out just then, butt he merely glanced at the fallen Arya, stood in a ready stance, and faced the creature. He swung his sword around at lightning speed, and the beast grabbed it out of the air. With amazing strength and speed, it hit him with the flat of his own blade. Eragon faded into blackness and was numb with pain before he even hit the ground. Blackness enveloped him without even giving him a chance to take in his terrible surroundings.


	7. Escaping the Prison

Arya woke up from the ordeal long before Eragon. As soon as she was capable of coherent thought, she began thinking of a way to escape. Thinking, she found, was the best way to keep her mind healthy and to stop her from worrying.

For days on end, she paced the small cell, not once seeing the light of day, or any light at all for that matter. Their captors, who ever they might be, had most likely drugged Eragon or even somehow poisoned him. She did not know. In any case, there was nothing she could do about it. However, she did wonder, why had they not done the same to her? The more she thought about it, the more curious and frightened she became, so she pushed it out of her mind and concentrated her mind on planning escape.

* * *

Finally, on a particularly long day, Eragon awoke groggily from his prolonged slumber. She rushed to his side, if only to hear his voice. It had been days since she had heard a voice that was not her own. He did not speak for at least an hour or two, but that was to be expected, as he was still half-asleep.

"Arya?" he called hoarsely. Suddenly he was on his feet without warning, a shocked and worried look about him. He saw her and was relieved slightly from his confusion, but then he looked around and his face fell. "Are you alright?" he asked with a sigh.

"Yes, thank you," she said politely. He plopped down unceremoniously on the bench that was supposed to be a bed. "You're just going to sit there?"

"Honestly, Arya? You think I'm just going to sit here?" He stared at her incredulously. "I mean nothing bad, but when have you seen me simply give up?"

Before she could say a word, he mumbled something and the door to their cell swung open. Arya stared, mouth agape in shock, at the open door in front of her. That idea had not even occurred to her. Why had it not? She was beginning to wonder what was going on inside her mind these days.

Eragon, who was a few feet ahead, led the way through the passageways of the unidentified dungeon. Arya thought she heard a noise ahead, but then assumed it was only a creak as the building settled or the scuffing of their boots on the stone floor. They rounded a corner and immediately Eragon ducked. There was the slightest whistle as an arrow shot by just over his head and past her cheek.

Neither one had to say a word. The two headed down an adjacent hallway, trying to avoid the ambush. They ran at a nearly inhuman speed, but they both felt it was of little help when chased by the arrows that continued to whistle overhead. A light appeared at the end of the passage. It must be a room with windows, Arya thought. They sped toward it, faster and faster, until it loomed upon them. Eragon and Arya both realized what the light was, but it was too late to do anything. Their momentum kept them running, running, running…

They went running right over the edge of the cliff.


	8. Ending the Freedom

They tumbled over the edge without the slightest hesitation. Arya let out an involuntary scream and tried unsuccessfully to look at the water below. It remained far away for a long time, and then loomed up suddenly. She braced herself for the impact and plunged into the icy cold water of the Jiet River. The Jiet River? She wondered how she had even known that. That was one of her last thoughts as hypothermia set in and she began to lose consciousness.

"Eragon!" she cried as blackness surrounded her. Everything was dark.

The mysterious betraying stone had not lied entirely; there was a man waiting for them in Petrovya. He resided in his small, picturesque cabin on the outer fringe of the city. A dog panted happily as he scratched behind its ears. His son was in trouble, he knew, so he must go and save him.

And so he did.

Eragon drifted in and out of consciousness, between blackness and muffled voices and blurred images. He felt himself dragged up from the water, but he did not know if the person was there to help him or harm him. Then, he plummeted into the blackness again. He wondered where he would find himself if he ever woke up again. He wondered how he would ever wake up again.

"He is weak. You should not be here. It is rest that he is needing." A small voice said. A lower voice said something even more inaudible, and the smaller voice rose. "Go now… not safe…leave… they will not live." And then all went silent.


	9. Dreaming the Sorrow

Deep under the wispy darkness, Arya found herself in a flowery meadow. She walked through the bright, sunny clearing, taking in her surroundings. Suddenly, she went through the woods and into a second clearing. This clearing was darker and also misty. In the center of this clearing, stood Eragon. Power reflected in his eyes and a wind swirled around him. He looked so…perfect, she thought, though it sounded more like she was admitting it.

Involuntarily, she spoke. "Eragon, I'm sorry. I really do love you." She could not tell herself that it was true, though she had a sinking feeling that it was. He looked at her fiercely, eyes narrowed.

"It is too late, Arya," he said. "You have lost your chance." He drew his sword and swung it toward her. She grabbed hers and swung it- too slow. Pain seared through her shoulder, and she went down. She felt her strength ebb away, felt the life flow out of her. Never had she thought that she would end life like this: crying, heartbroken on the ground.

It surprised her very much when she woke up. It had been a dream, she realized. A very realistic dream. Eragon lay next to her, his hair covering his face, which had an angry look on it. She brushed his hair away and watched him quietly, thinking about him all the while.

Buried deep within the blackness, Eragon found himself deep in a forest. He glanced around the area, then quickly walked forward, finding before him a misty clearing. Shadows moved about, appearing and disappearing in the mist. One of them looked familiar; it was Arya. He saw her, and he saw into her open mind. Suddenly, he understood everything. She could not love him. But why? In any case, she didn't want to love him, even though she did.

He understood, so he decided, he must let her go. She came up to him and blurted out, "Eragon, I'm sorry. I really do love you." That shocked him. It could not be; she had turned him down already. How could she love him now? He changed everything he had meant to say before to fit what was happening now. He couldn't be with her because she didn't want to love him.

"It's too late, Arya. You have lost your chance." He almost choked on the words, but held his fierce gaze steady. Involuntarily, his hand went to his side, and they both drew their swords on each other. He slashed at her without wanting to, and she fell down, mortally wounded. He wanted to cry, to run to her side, but he could not do either. And then he woke up.


	10. Discovering the Truth

Erikk had marched through the forest all this time, his course set, thinking of nothing but his mission, and even then, thinking of only the completion. King Orik had sent him on this mission, and Erikk was greatly angered by that fact. He was supposed to be leading soldiers into battle, but instead he was sent on this "adventure" across Alagaesia.

The trip included finding that child Eragon. What a degrading mission. Of course, everyone fawned over the young Dragon Rider as though he was the greatest thing, but what was the foolish boy supposed to do? He could barely keep himself alive, much less the whole of Alagaesia. It was not he that would prove Eragon's weakness, no, he did not wish to lay a hand on him. Nevertheless, he wanted nothing to do with that Dragon Rider or anything about him. In this case, however, he had no choice in the matter.

Lost in thought, he did not hear the noises behind him, noises that any dwarf as skilled at tracking as he. He did not notice until he came to a tiny pond created by the recent rainfall, and by then it was too late. An old man jumped out at him and brought him to the ground within an instant. Erikk's eyes widened as he felt the cool blade of a broadsword as it rested on his neck. His chest heaved as he breathed, trying to calm down after the short, painful struggle. He could not see the face of his attacker, and he was not sure if he wanted to.

The attacker laughed a low gruff chuckle. "Dwarves, so smart, so strong, and so easily distracted." Erikk growled. How dare this man insult him like that? "No, no," the man said, "That's enough. I mean you no harm, _Erikk_." The man came around so that Erikk could see him. The dwarf was panicking now. How had this man known his name? Then he saw the man's face, and he almost fainted right then.

"No, no, no. No! It cannot be. You're, you're him! You're…" Erikk tumbled over his words in his own shock. "You're Brom!"

"Indeed," he said, sounding amused.

"You're dead!"

"Do I look dead to you?" Brom asked, smile fading.

"No. No, sir," Erikk stuttered.

"Good. It wouldn't be a very good thing if I were to walk into town looking like a ghost now would it?"

"R-right, you are, sir," he said.

"Get up, then. Be on your way." Erikk scrambled to get up and began heading in the direction of Farthen Dur. The King Orik should know about this before that Eragon boy, shouldn't he?

When Eragon finally awoke, his eyes immediately met Arya's eyes. She had, on her face, an expression he had never seen before. Arya looked like she had something to say, something she could not force past her lips. Then, in a voice that echoed through his mind, she found the words.

"Eragon," she said. "I'm sorry. I really do love you." He recognized the words instantly, from his dream. This time, he would not turn her down.

"Well, you know how I feel about you," he said, and he finally gained a mature grin instead of a foolish one. Arya smiled at this. There was a knock on the door, and they both jumped at the sound. Into the room strode a man that stole the breath of each away.

"Brom…" Eragon said feeling faint. There is no way, he thought. No, no, no, not Brom. Brom was dead. He was buried in a diamond tomb. Wasn't he? He had mourned his death, avenged his death, and tried to forget about his death, and now Brom was alive? Eragon was not ready to believe that, not in a million years.

"Eragon," Brom said, voice strangely calm, eyes pointed at the floor. Why was that strange, Eragon wondered? He was resting in peace! "I realize that my presence here shocks you, but-

"Shocks me?" Eragon interjected. "No, this does well more than shocks me. I was shocked when you told me you were a Dragon Rider. I was shocked when I found out that you were my father. I believed those things. This, this is beyond that. You were dead." Arya's hand squeezed his, reminding him to calm down.

"I know, I know, but please, just hear me out. There's nothing you can lose by listening to me." _Nothing Except my sanity,_ Eragon thought, but he remained silent and gave in.

"When Saphira transformed my…tomb, she did something far more powerful. It brought me back to life. I didn't even know it could be done, but apparently it can." He finally looked up. "What on earth happened to you boy?" Brom asked, looking Eragon up and down.

Eragon sighed. "There'll be time for that later. How am I supposed to know this is true."

"Of course you wouldn't believe me," said Brom. "I respect that. But what do you want me to do? Should I give you a very sincere letter?"

"Swear it, in the Ancient Language," Eragon said, his voice turned cold.

"Oh, well, I suppose, but-

"Do you need me to teach you the words?" He asked sarcastically.

"Fine. You humiliate me. Eragon Shur'tugal, Eka thorta du ilumeo." Brom said, the words rolling off his tongue with an edge of steel in them.

"Eka elrun ono un atra esterni ono thelduin." Eragon's words rolled off just as quickly and with just as much steel. Arya sat there, looking at the both of them. Eragon was definitely his father's son, she noticed, seeing their similar expressions.

"So, did you miss me?" Brom asked, his eyebrows raising.

"Aye," replied Eragon.

**This chapter is longer. Much longer. I hope you liked it, I decided to take a big leap here. Feel free to rebuke me or praise me. Hopefully, you'll be praising me, but please rebuke if necessary. Thanks. **


	11. Planning the Escape

Eragon couldn't help but be extremely happy to see Brom. He couldn't lock up his emotions, couldn't keep the smile from spreading across his face. After all, this was his father, a relationship that he had never really had before, come back from the dead through some magic no one knew about. He had so many things to say and so many things to apologize for, things that he had thought about or said to Brom that had been without any knowledge of what Brom had been trying to do.

Arya broke the silence. "I have someone to find in this town, I believe." Eragon smiled inwardly at this. Arya, Brom, and Eragon all stared at each other, wondering what to do next. She left the room without another word, leaving the latter two to watch her go.

"Tell me everything," Brom breathed, looking awkwardly eager. Eragon smiled as he realized, Brom had missed a lot. So, he began the marvelous tale, spinning a web of the events since his father's alleged death, leaving no detail out, telling him about Farthen Dur and the dwarves, the Varden, Ellesmera and the elves, his elven transformation, Oromis and Glaedr, The coming of Roran to the Varden, and his ever-present mission to kill the dark king. He told him about every last thing that had happened, everything he had done, and then laid back on the bed, exhausted.

"I just can't believe that you're here right now, after all this time. How is it that no one knew that you could bring someone back to life?"

"The power of dragons is a mystery to even the most practiced of sorcerers and magicians. It is an unpredictable magic with no real base to it. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if there are millions of things we don't know they can do." Brom's eyes twinkled as he talked, as if each word were a miracle.

Suddenly, a horn sounded, and Eragon shot out of bed. Brom cursed a number of things under his breath and stood up as well. Eragon breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, he thought, this actually sounded like Brom. He opened the old wooden door, which creaked on its hinges. Outside, men ran down the streets, and chaos reigned everywhere. "Brom, where are we?" Eragon wondered.

"The outskirts of Petrovya," he replied angrily. "Either the king is suddenly fighting off crime or he discovered one of us. By us, you realize, I mean me."

"Why you?"

"Because I live here, that's why, boy!" Brom snapped. "Now follow me!" The old man opened up a hatch in the bottom of the floor and shoved Eragon down inside. The secret door collapsed down on top of them, and they huddled down inside. Not a minute later, he heard footsteps above them. They shuffled around momentarily and then headed towards the place where the hatch lay. Eragon shrank back into the cramped space, listening carefully for the footfalls. The steps suddenly stopped, and all was silent. To Eragon's horror, the secret door lifted up, and as the light filtered in, Eragon thought _this is it, they've finally got me._ He prepared to die.

"We need to get out of here, you cowards! Come on!" A woman's voice said. Eragon looked up and found the narrowed, annoyed eyes of Arya. He climbed out lithely with Brom bringing up the rear, and they slipped out the door and into the streets, slipping behind a building.

The sound of boots echoed around them now, and they followed the length of a building to an alleyway. Eragon was getting tired of all the crouching and hiding, but it was worth his life. They huddled together in the shadows as a group of Galbatorix's soldiers passed without noticing.

"We need to get out of here," Eragon whispered unnecessarily after they had passed.

"Of course," said Brom and Arya at once. He felt the same feeling he had finally gotten rid of: the feeling that he was not in control of what he did, that he was on the outside of the plan. At the same time, he didn't want to ask them and he didn't feel the authority to read their minds, so he settled for being patient.

As the three got up from their place in the alley, a voice stopped them dead in their tracks; just the voice was able to hold them in place, not taking another step. Eragon's face rose to meet a dark form that blotted out the sun. A great, dark dragon hovered above them, and a voice rang out from it. "RUN, RUN, RUN!" The voice mocked. "RUN WHILE YOU CAN DRAGON RIDER! GO AHEAD AND TRY. YOU CANNOT ESCAPE ME, NO MATTER HOW HARD YOU ESCAPE, FOR I HAVE IN MY CONTROL MORE POWER THAN YOU CAN EVER ACCUMULATE IN A LIFETIME-A LIFETIME WHICH WILL BE EXTRAORDINARILY SHORT." The voice laughed. Who was so powerful, who could hold him this way? Who could overpower him in such a matter as to place him instantly on the line between life and death-so close in a single moment- without even a touch?

"DO YOU NOT KNOW ME?" the voice asked. "STUPID, INSOLENT BOY, CAN YOU NOT FIGURE IT OUT? I AM THE GREAT KING GALBATORIX, THE ALL POWERFUL, THE GREATEST OF THE DRAGON RIDERS."

Galbatorix? Here? Eragon would have refused to believe it in any other circumstance. But he could not think of anyone or anything with this amount of power, the power of many dragons long passed. Though he wished with every ounce of his being that it wasn't true, this was in fact, the king, come off his throne finally to confront him.

Next to him, Eragon heard Brom curse under his breath as he stared mesmerized at the black dragon with its powerful rider. Eragon desperately wanted Saphira with him, but, most likely even she could not help him. He had a strange need to run screaming down alley after alley, all the way to the ends of Alagaesia.

"Eragon. Eragon!" Arya was calling him. "Pay attention. I believe I know what we can do. You must go to that building over there and prepare to attack him, but don't." She pointed. "Remember that even the best and strongest archer can not hit a mark that is not there."

Thinking that Arya was absolutely crazy, he fell back next to Brom. "Trust her" was all he said. Eragon could not take that as an answer. He was going to be killed, after all this time spent barely staying alive, by a suicidal plan. Does she really hate me that much? He wondered. He marched over to the building, aware of the impending danger that was upon him.


	12. Escaping the Danger

Eragon had childishly stomped over to the designated place when he called upon his magic. He was almost shaking with an amount of nervousness he didn't even know he had. But the fear was not all his own, he reminded himself. Galbatorix wanted him to be afraid-wanted him to make a foolish mistake in his panicking. He felt a wisp of thought cross his brain, very small, but strong. Eragon crouched down lower, trying not to be seen, but it was pointless. The black dragon descended, prolonging his death, but it was still too little time.

And what had he accomplished? He had been given the possibility to live forever, and he had only used three years worth of it. In his shame, he looked up at the sky, with the dark king descending on his dark dragon-slowly, ever so slowly- and he bit his lip, fighting the urge to sob hysterically. If he was to die, he would die as a brave warrior, not as some coward curled up on the ground or running in pure terror. He would die a true Dragon Rider.

As he brought his head back down, he realized that both Brom and Arya were gone. Of course they were, he thought bitterly, he was the bait, the sacrifice, so that they could get away. How had he been so stupid? He felt the ground shift slightly beneath him, and he spread his feet further apart to keep his balance. Galbatorix faced him now, and Eragon wanted badly to close his eyes, to shut out what was coming, but he didn't-he wouldn't. He stared back into the eyes of the dark king and let out a growl.

"Foolish boy," he spat. His words were quieter now, more human, though they were still extremely powerful and commanding. "You have lost, yet you pretend like you have won." Without willing himself, he lowered his head in defeat. "Somehow, you have managed to elude me for some time, but that was to be allowed. That is why I did not come myself and get you this time. You cower behind that girl's skirts, and with good reason: Nasuada is less of a coward than you."

"If you're going to kill me, kill me now," Eragon growled. "I do not wish to hear all your stories. I have heard them all." Eragon had no idea where this was coming from. He wanted to run screaming to his mother. Then again, maybe he didn't. Another part of him, though, wanted to reach up and slap the king across the face. Wouldn't that make an excellent story someday? He was going insane, he thought. May as well not stop now, he chided himself. "Good day to you, sir," he said with a wave of his hand.

That was all it took. Galbatorix growled and yelled animal-like and sent an overpowering wave of magic toward him. He felt himself fall…

"So easily defeated," Galbatorix chuckled. "This thorn in my side, done." The smoke began to clear, and the king peered through the lightened haze. There was nothing there but charred brick and stone. Wishing that the char was Eragon, he felt around with his mind and sensed that horrible boy nearby. How did he stay alive? Screaming with rage, he left the scene, got on his dragon again, and headed back in the direction of Uru'Baen, fuming all the way, but still sure that the boy would be dead soon.

Eragon barely heard the loudest scream he could experience because of his shock. He wasn't dead! Crouched on his knees, he looked up at the trapdoor in wonder, amazed that he had not even seen it. A moment ago, he had felt awful for thinking that Brom and Arya had betrayed him, but he soon realized that those thoughts had only helped the matter.

"We need to get out of here," Brom reminded them, his words finally losing their strange sound of wonder. They followed the old man down the low tunnel. Eragon didn't even have horrible claustrophobia and he was almost driven mad by the tight space. He pressed on anyway, because he felt that he should not be the coward of the group, especially when the other two were an old man and a woman.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, they reached the end of the seemingly boundless tunnel. They stood looking out at Tudosten Lake, a clear, blue lake. The fact that they were here by the shore meant that they were now out of Surda, which meant it was part of the Empire, thus making it more dangerous. More dangerous.

Eragon was sitting by the nice, warm fire he had made, and Arya came and sat down next to him. He did not know where Brom was at all, but he was not worried: Brom could take care of himself. Unable to say the same about himself, Eragon sighed.

"Brom wants to go to Farthen Dur tomorrow morning. It is, I suppose, the shortest distance." The shortest indeed, Eragon thought, groaning inwardly.

"Why is it that I'm never included in the plans? I don't like not knowing what's going on. You and Brom should both know I am capable of having ideas as well as keeping secrets."

"It's not about keeping secrets, Eragon. Stop acting like a child." Eragon also knew he was good at knowing when to stop…most of the time. "The answer you're looking for, however, I cannot give you."

Eragon wanted badly to argue, but instead he said, "I understand."

Arya could see that Eragon was trying hard to act a lot older than he was. He was going to have to understand that they could not be together. Why did he keep trying? She had tried everything to get him to stop. Why? She asked herself. Why did she keep trying? Because they could not be together. Sweet as he was, she wanted to slap him for making this hard. She looked over at Eragon, saw him staring at the fire, and thanked, well thanked anything that he could not read her mind.

"Good night, Eragon," she said, getting up to leave.

"Good night," he said, a bit of strange steel in his voice. Why was he mad at her? Arya thought about it again and knew why.

"Eragon! Eragon! Boy, wake up already." Brom kicked him softly in the leg to wake him up. Eragon groaned. He had been dreaming of the last time he had traveled with Brom. It hurt.

"We're setting out for the mountains today," he said with a positive frown, if there was such a thing. "Visit the Dwarves, and the v- …Visit the Dwarves." As he had said earlier, Brom had missed a lot.

"I don't know exactly where we are on the lake, so how long will this take us?" Arya inquired.

"As long as it takes us to get there," Brom said. Eragon really hated his father's mood today, and he guessed that Arya did, too.

When Brom had said "We're setting out for the mountains today", he had meant that exact second, so they left abruptly. Eragon was in a bad mood himself, and walking with the crazy old man was making it much worse.

_Eragon! That is no way to speak of your father!_ Arya spoke to him in a motherly way. Motherly? He was in love with her, and she was being motherly! This day just got worse and worse. In fact, he was about to think it couldn't get any worse, but it already had.


	13. Author's Note

**As I was writing chapter fourteen, I realized that thirteen required change so that it would all fit better. If you have read that chapter and you feel the need to reread so there is no confusion, you may skip all the way to the line located around three quarters of the way through the story. If you just finished chapter twelve, then please start at the beginning. Thank you so much for reading my story, and please review if you have any comments, criticism, or suggestions. **

** Thanks Again,**

** Flamewing**


	14. Revealing the Truth

**A/N: This chapter is changed toward the end. If you have read this chapter already, thank you and you may skip all the way down to the line across the page. If you are new to chapter thirteen, thank you so much for coming and I hope you enjoy the ride. **

A dark-cloaked figure riding a dark horse rode up quickly and stopped in front of the group, causing those on each side to draw a sword. Eragon's mouth was hanging wide open. He was tired of all these people getting in his way. He wanted to be with the dwarves right now, just so he could camp out in some room that Orik would get for him where no one would bother him. Brisingr glistened in the light, and its blue color cast blue light on his angry, annoyed face. The worst part was, Brom and Arya had disappeared back into the trees somehow. Had they been that far behind before?

"Calm down," the figure said. Cautiously he pulled down the cowl of his cloak, and Roran smiled as he put his sword back in its sheath. Eragon frowned and lowered his.

"What are you doing here, Roran?"

"Can't a man visit his own cousin?" Roran asked, trying to rile him up.

Eragon was already riled up. "In the middle of the woods? Really?"

"So," he said, ignoring Eragon, "Is _she _with you? I see your face reddening, don't try and say nothing. Was that Brom with you, as well? It couldn't have been."

"It is the both of them," Eragon grumbled. Brom and Arya had come back behind him, but he didn't know why they had fallen behind.

"It is me," Brom spoke up.

"He's not dead…. You do confuse me sometimes, Eragon." Eragon just stared at him. "I'm really sorry to surprise you like this, but I got lost, and I guess I just ran into you. You seem upset."

Eragon was beginning to realize how bad and unjust his attitude was, and so he decided to improve it. "I am sorry, Roran; I don't mean to be rude like this." Brom and Arya left the scene, excluding him from their plans once again. "It has been a horrible time lately. My father has to be insane, Arya is treating me like she's my mother, and Saphira's not here."

"I understand. We all have bad days, Eragon."

"Would you like to come with us?" Eragon asked, trying not to take that last comment badly.

"Where are you going?"

"Farthen Dur, apparently," he replied.

"Certainly." Eragon was happy, because now he had someone to talk to that wasn't acting strange. "I never have been there."

Galbatorix stared the Dragon Rider in the face, threatening him with everything he knew. This Murtagh was a failure, and he would never be anymore-all the better for his personal use. Giving him the strength to destroy Eragon was one thing, giving him the will to destroy Eragon was quite another. This time, however, it would work. Galbatorix knew all the oaths, and there were no more Murtagh could take, no more to be found. He was sure now, that the job would be done correctly.

"I shall go, my king," he said with his failure of a bow. Galbatorix gave barely a nod. What had Eragon said? If he changed his personality, was that it? It seemed to make sense. His mind switched its train of thought. He had been stupid to go with Ajihad, stupid to do any of his last moves, but it was too late now for regrets. Now he would have to kill Eragon for sure.

Unless he could change himself and change his true name.

But what was he right now? Weak, cowardly, awful, could that be it? Well, he did not know, but the best thing he could do-if he were to try-was to stop being who and what he was.

It was going to be difficult.

Roran walked alongside Eragon, at a loss for words. He was sure that Eragon was disappointed in his lack of conversation, but there was not much to say. As he skirted yet another boulder, the world seemed to grow darker yet again. How much farther would they have to follow this river, anyway?

"We're almost there," Eragon said. He looked depressed, most likely because Saphira wasn't there. The bond between them was indeed incredible, and he felt bad for his cousin-his brother. He understood that, in a way, for he felt much the same way about Katrina now.

"A good thing, too," Brom commented. "You are all terrible company." No one laughed.

"Brom, I think that no one wants to hear you test humor."

"Watch yourself, boy." That brought a smile to everyone's face, except for Eragon, who was more impatient and sad looking than ever. By now, Roran could hear the rush of a waterfall.

"Why are we going this way?" Eragon wondered after a time.

"It's the best for cooling off," Brom replied. Roran refused to believe that as much as Eragon did. Brom was acting extremely strangely, and he didn't know why. Eragon's presence entered his head, and he frowned.

_Brom is up to something, but I do not know what it is. _

_Do you think that's why they are keeping everything secret from you? _Roran asked.

_Aye._ Eragon got out of his head then, and Roran was grateful to him. The pressure gave him a headache. He watched Brom for a time, trying to see if he could figure it out. The man still seemed like a storyteller to him, nothing more. He knew however, that he had once been a powerful Rider, and was still a powerful fighter…or had been when he was alive. Perhaps his unlikely story was false, and he was hiding something, or leading them all into a trap. That was it! This was not Brom; Brom was most likely still encased in his tomb. Eragon's consciousness entered his mind again, but this time Roran wanted to talk first.

_This isn't the real Brom, it's some wretch pretending to be him._

_I was beginning to think the same thing. _

_I hate to play the coward, but I'm not going to be the one to tell him._

_Very well._ Eragon drew his sword and spun on the two behind him.

"Eragon, what are you doing?" Brom asked, attempting to smile disarmingly and failing.

"If either of you are who you say you are, then you will allow me to examine a few of your memories to prove my suspicions wrong."

Arya gave him a strange look and allowed the process. Eragon seemed glad to know that she was not lying to him

"Eragon, I am your father, you remember that, right?"

"We can find that out very easily," he said coolly.

"Not over my dead body," Brom sneered. Eragon and Roran both grinned at the irony.

He turned his sword, Brisingr, in his hand, admiring it. "This is a nice blade." With one fluid slash, he killed the old man. "Is it not?" Roran stared at the body, dead before hitting the ground, in shock. He looked up at Eragon, young Eragon, and shook his head. Watching his back a bit more closely, he caught up with his cousin, who had already turned and walked away in the opposite direction they had been going. Arya followed smoothly. "I was so stupid not to see that coming. I can't believe I thought Brom, my father, had come back to life."

"It's alright, Eragon. It's alright." Roran felt like he was talking to Katrina, so he shut up.

"I'm glad you're here, Roran. I don't know what I would do…by myself." As if on cue, a roar echoed through the sky. "Saphira!" Eragon yelled, grinning one of his big, stupid grins that made Roran laugh. The big dragon's return brightened both of their moods, and each one felt better.

They wrapped their minds around each other so tightly, Eragon began to wonder if he was a person or a dragon. Love passed between them greater than ever before. He felt whole again now that she was back, in fact, he hadn't even known he missed her this much.

_I missed you, little one, _Saphira said.

_I missed you too, Saphira, so much._

_You got into trouble again, didn't you?_

_Aye._

_Oh Eragon, what am I going to do with you?_

_Stay with me, _Eragon said, and right then, that was all he wanted. To fly far away with her right now and never come back, that would be wonderful. That was all he wanted. All he wanted. _Brom and Arya were not really here. You would have known, that's all I could think about, that you would have known long before I did that it was a trap._

_Are you sure of that?_

_Yes._

_Oh Eragon, how I looked for you. I cannot believe that I couldn't find you. Now, we can talk more later, but right now, your cousin is waiting for us._

Abruptly, he opened his eyes to find Roran staring at him. With a slight scrape of scales, he hopped nimbly off Saphira's back again. He was slightly embarrassed, and he tried to brush that feeling off before Saphira could see.

"Good morning to you, Saphira, Bjartskular," Arya said.

_Good morning, Arya,_ Saphira said, eyes softening.

"Why don't we go around the other way with Saphira and get a place to sleep. I am exhausted," Eragon suggested. All three of them got onto Saphira for the quick ride, and she rose into the sky with almost no extra effort. She spun around as she ascended, making everyone, even Eragon, grip just a little tighter 


	15. Helping the Dwarves

"Ah, Eragon, you finally came back," Orik said with a friendly grin. Eragon smiled slightly.

"I brought my cousin, Roran, with me," he said as he followed Orik into a nice, warm room and shut the door. Arya remained outside to do whatever it was she planned on doing.

"Good to see you, Roran," Orik replied, shaking hands roughly.

"Orik, I would prefer to wait until tomorrow to talk, if that is alright with you," Eragon said.

"I understand. Go, the two of you look like walking dead men." He opened a second door, which Eragon realized led up to his preferred sleeping quarters. Without a word, he climbed the stairs, Roran in tow and opened the door to the keep. Saphira was there already, and her mind greeted him, making him smile.

Roran collapsed on the furniture closest to him, which happened to be a bed. Eragon found a place next to Saphira and lay down there.

_Saphira?_

_ Yes?_

_ Is it right to sometimes wish that Brom were still around?_

_ Of course, Eragon. In some ways I miss the old man myself. Just don't let that get in the way of what you know you need to do. Understand?_

_ Aye. Good night, Saphira._

_ Good night, little one._ Eragon slept mostly at peace, restoring his strength for the next day.

He woke at dawn and rose from his spot next to Saphira. The dragon was already awake, but Roran was not, so he kicked his leg. With a grumble, his cousin got out of bed. Along the stony passageways that led the way to Orik's meeting room, he met Arya, who was leaning against the wall.

"You slept well, Eragon?" He nodded. "The king has called me as well, but I decided to wait for you. Let's go." She pushed open a door to her left and the three of them entered. King Orik sat at the head of a long, wood table with other clan leaders circled around it. They took seats near him, Eragon in between Arya and Roran, and the meeting was called to order.

"Grave news came to me last night, the likes of which kept me from sleep. Galbatorix's army is on the move again and heading right for us. I have sent men out to see if we can fight them and they all say it was too large. Our walls cannot hold them back, and neither can we. So, what say you, clan leaders? Do we fight anyway, perhaps asking for help in places around? We vote now. As for me and mine clan, Durgrimst Ingeitum, we vote yes."

One of the clan leaders-Eragon could not remember her name or her clan-spoke up. "If the danger is as you say, mine king, then I believe that asking for help is not just a good idea, it is necessary. Of course we should fight, what else is there to do? Hide? On behalf of mine clan, I vote yes." Around the table, the leaders of each clan all voted yes, because the best option was to agree with Orik. He had good circumstances to receive support, because of course they would fight and not flee.

"Eragon, you are of mine clan, but I shall allow you to decide in any case. What say you?"

"Of course I shall fight with you, King Orik." Roran whispered in his ear. "Roran wants to know if his vote counts."

"Why not?"

"Then I shall also fight with you, King Orik," Roran said. Arya nodded this as well, and everyone was agreed.

"The meeting is dismissed," Orik said. All the dwarves got up to leave.

"I must speak with you later," Arya said to Eragon in an undertone. He nodded. With a graceful turn, she slipped through the door.

"So how close are the soldiers?" Eragon wondered.

"Too close," Orik replied. "They have reached the mountains already."

"Is there anything we can do? Should I request the help of the Varden? Should I-

"Just stay here, Eragon. We need you here and we need you alive and well, especially if your friend Murtagh decides to show up. Or maybe even Galbatorix himself. Wouldn't that be great? Anyway, go now, you should get something to eat."

"Goodbye, Orik," Eragon said, exiting the meeting room. "I can't believe they voted that fast! The last time I came here it took them days before they even called the meeting and then more days to vote."

"Well, I guess they needed to decide more quickly this time," Roran said.

"I suppose." They reached the hall where everyone was eating and grabbed some food. Eragon was glad, because he felt like he was starving. Roran on the other hand, barely touched his after they sat down. "Eat Roran. As they say here in Farthen Dur, 'Ilf gauhnith' or 'it is safe and good'."

"It looks unsafe and bad."

"That's because you mixed it together so much. Just eat it." Roran frowned. "What's bothering you, Roran?"

He answered one question with another. "What are we doing here?"

"Helping the dwarves, I suppose."

"What do you suppose Nasuada is doing right now? Do you think she's sitting back and relaxing? We should really be with the Varden helping."

"You're right, we should. I wasn't thinking. But how can we leave now when we both promised Orik we would fight here?"

"Maybe we should at least contact Nasuada and update her. That is what she would want." Eragon nodded. They left the hall and went to an adjoining room.

Roran followed Eragon, watching what he did. Not only did it seem right to at least contact Nasuada, but it seemed like a better place to be than this stone hiding place. He watched as Eragon spoke words into a small puddle of water and patiently waited as tent walls and people appeared in it. As interesting as magic seemed, he had given up trying to do it himself. Suddenly, Nasuada's face appeared in the water, and relief spread over her face to see the both of them.

"Eragon," she said. "I'm so glad you're alright."

"I'm very sorry, my lady, that I did not contact you sooner."

"And is Arya well?" Eragon nodded. "Roran, why are you there?"

"I got lost in the forest and bumped into them," he replied.

"I see. Where are you?"

Eragon smiled. "With the dwarves in Farthen Dur, of course."

"Please, Eragon, no sarcasm. Orik is well then?"

"Yes, but there is a problem. The king's army is marching this way as we speak, and all promised to fight here."

"I wish you hadn't. We are in need of you here, as well. Please come back as soon as your never-ending promises allow. Go now. Goodbye Eragon, goodbye Roran." Eragon let the image fade.

"We shall have to make quick work of this," Roran said with a grin.

"Sure," Eragon replied, grinning back. "Get yourself two hammers."

**Thanks for reading, sorry for the mix up of changing chapter 13. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please press the button that I'm probably not pointing to. You know the one. **


	16. Losing the Way

Eragon left Roran in the dining hall and went to find Arya. He traversed the empty, cavernous halls, searching for the beautiful elf woman. He climbed stony staircase upon stony staircase until he reached a balcony near the top of the mountain. There she stood, still as a statue, letting the sun warm her face and the wind blow her long dark hair. He quietly went over to stand next to her, looking out at the mountains and trees surrounding them.

"Eragon, look around. What do you see?" Eragon was not sure how to answer in a way that wouldn't look foolish. He looked around.

"I see mountains and trees and far into the distance of Alagaesia," he said, already regretting his answer.

"Precisely," she said. Eragon stifled a sigh of relief. "Alagaesia: a fierce land of power, strength, and beauty, brought so low by the power of one man. For many years this has been, as you know. Many people died in that time, hoping for a miracle but never, ever getting one. Then, a miracle came." Eragon suddenly understood where she was going with this. "The miracle came in the form of a Dragon Rider, a young boy, true, but one of great promise. It was quite hard for the people to count on his appearance in their time of trouble, because he was always pledging his help to the wrong person at the wrong time. For example, now, when theVarden are about to be destroyed where they stand while he stands on a balcony with an elf princess."

"What are you asking me to do, Arya? Leave now, when Galbatorix is about to wipe out the dwarves?" He glared at her, the entire moment ruined.

"I want you to stop making promises! When you promise something to someone, you don't just put your own plans on hold; you put the lives of everyone in Alagaesia on hold! Eragon, when are you going to understand that?" Eragon tried to keep his head up. This conversation was heading the exact opposite direction of how he had planned. When was she going to understand that he was doing his best? His eyes narrowed.

"Of course, all the problems going on right now are because of me."

"Don't be a child, Eragon," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Why? Was I anything else to you before?" She stared back at him.

"No, never. No, you never were, nor shall you ever be."

"Such a small thing, and you can't see past it, even for a second. You think you're so amazing, Arya, so brave, unafraid. Well, all the people in the world would know with just a few minute's time spent that you are nothing of whom you make yourself out to be. You are afraid like everyone else. You care about things like everyone else. In fact, you're afraid right now. I can see it in your eyes. So, before you embarrass yourself further, get out of here."

Arya stifled a gasp. "Remember to whom you are speaking," she glared at him.

"Oh, you're right, excuse my terrible manners. Your Highness, get out of here!"

Arya looked at him, staring right into his heart and soul through his eyes. He knew, however, that she would find nothing there. Nothing. He coolly stared back at her. She left, footsteps echoing through the halls along the way.

_Saphira, _he called, _we are leaving now._ She flew up to the edge in seconds, and he nimbly jumped the gap into her saddle.

_Eragon, what about your cousin?_ She did not bother to ask about Arya, for she already knew, he was sure.

_He will be fine. We are getting away from this place,_ Eragon barely put up with talking about it.

Saphira shot up into the air. _And you think nothing of your promise to Orik and the dwarves?_

_Aye, _he answered angrily. _Absolutely nothing._ They were heading west alarmingly fast, and Eragon could only think the faster the better. Even a raging storm could not stop them from leaving, he knew.

Of course then, when a raging storm began to form nearly overhead, Eragon urged Saphira to go faster. _Eragon, it will be difficult to fly in a storm and-_

_Please, Saphira. Just this one time, do not argue with me!_ He felt her empty all her stored up confidence and speed up. They swirled around in the storm, dodging edges of lightning bolts and attempting to see through rain and hail. It was getting darker and darker, and they were spinning wildly now. Eragon knew Saphira had completely lost control, and he hoped they could reach the end without becoming stuck in the middle as Brom had warned a while back.

_Saphira, _he called. She did not seem to hear him. _Saphira?_

_Eragon, _she replied, sounding upset at him.

_I'm so sorry._

_Hmmm, _she said. They spoke no more, and Eragon was forced to hold on in silence with all the strength he had left. How had he been so stupid? Arya was right: she was a distraction to him. Well, it was no matter now; she would be a distraction no longer. He wished never to see her again. Of course, he would have to eventually, but he would not look forward to it. The look on her face when he…it did not matter anymore what the look was. All that mattered was staying alive and returning to the Varden as soon as possible.

He turned his attention back to the weather, just as a bolt of lightning struck. He and Saphira yelped as one as a sharp bolt of lightning hit them, and they went spiraling downward toward the ground. Saphira was unconscious, and Eragon wished the same were true for him. He wasn't sure if it was tears forming in his eyes or just rainwater, but it felt like tears all the same.

When they hit the ground, though Saphira took the worst blow, Eragon was in the worst pain of his life. It ended quickly though, the dark world fading to black, images of Saphira, the dark landscape around him, all leaving.

_And I have done nothing for Alagaesia,_ he thought….

**Sorry this chapter is shorter, but I really wanted to stop here. The next one will be longer, because it will have what would have already been in it plus what could have been in this one. Thanks! And give me suggestions, too. Review Please! Just click on the little button down there and it will make me smile! **


	17. Remembering the Sadness

In a small cozy room, down deep in the heart of Farthen Dur, Arya lay on her bed, sulking. She had not sulked for a very long time, in fact she could hardly remember when she had. _Stupid, insolent, childish little boy_, she thought. _Who does he think he is? He was in love with her, wasn't…what excuse was that?_ As foolish as Eragon was, his words had still gotten the best of her, and that was embarrassing.

A little boy came running into her room. "Princess Arya, the great King Orik has summoned you."

"Of course he has," she spat, sitting up on her bed. She attempted to brighten her mood but failed and wearily said, "Thank you. Tell the king that I will meet him in the throne room shortly." He left. Grumbling, she stood up and brushed her hair behind her ear, then let it fall back again.

Not ten minutes later, Arya was sitting in the throne room, trying to make her eyes hide her emotions like the rest of her body. She felt unusually vulnerable, and knowing that made her feel even more embarrassed. In front of her sat Orik, still looking too much like the pudgy dwarf sitting in a chair and swigging his ale in Ellesmera to be addressed as king.

"Where is Eragon?" He asked.

"Perhaps you should ask someone who cares, Orik," she said dryly.

"Don't be a child, Arya," he said. What goes around comes around, her mind said. She bit her lip. "I believe you to be the first one to care. Now, where'd he go?"

"Do you mean to say that he is not here?"

"My men searched everywhere, and there was no sign of him or the dragon Saphira." _He couldn't even look for himself_, she thought, grinning wryly on the inside.

"What about his cousin, Roran?" She asked.

"He is here, but he said he hasn't seen Eragon since noon. He also mentioned speaking with Nasuada and going to talk to you. So did you see him?"

"I did speak with him…briefly," she replied. _Had he actually left? Stupid boy, he hadn't listened to a word she had said. He was brave; she had to admit it. What…what was she even talking about? _She was beginning to wonder which one was the child: Eragon or herself_._

"Well, maybe he just went out to see what was happening. He'll be back." Arya was sure the dwarves would love to hear their king now. No matter, she was sick of politics, and besides, it was time to go back and help Nasuada. She wrapped up with Orik and left.

When Eragon awoke, he felt dead, not that he knew what that felt like…yet. He didn't want to open his eyes, it was too bright. Beneath him, he could feel soft blankets. Blankets? With all his will, he forced his eyes open. Squinting even at the meager light, he looked around at the room. It was furnished with beautiful wood furniture, and small shining silver beads on the ceiling jingled in the wind coming from the open window across the room. Where was this place?

As if on cue, a girl about his age swung in the door, a fresh white cloth in her hands. The girl had shining, curly red hair that fanned out around her shoulders, and beautiful ice blue eyes. She wore a pastel green dress and had a never-ending smile. Upon seeing him, she gasped, but her smile never faltered. "You're awake!"

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"Yes," she said, her smile calming down. She studied him for a moment. "You're that Dragon Rider, aren't you?"

"I suppose I am _that Dragon Rider. _I do have a name, you know."

"Yes, it's Eragon, I know. I have to hear about it every day from my friends-oh you don't even want to know. I must say, you have annoyed me for quite some time and I have not even met you until just now."

"Alright then," he said, glancing at her strangely. Eragon was not quite sure what to make of that, and he waited patiently for her to say more.

"Is there a reason you're being so quiet? I would think you would like to know where you are, who I am, where your dragon is-

Saphira! How had he forgotten? _Saphira? Are you okay?_ He had thrown up barriers in his mind the moment he woke up, and Saphira couldn't possibly have contacted him.

_Eragon! Where are you? Are you hurt? Oh, little one._

_ I'm fine, Saphira. The more important thing is you._

_ Not if you are me, _she said.

"You aren't hearing a word I'm saying, are you?" The girl had her arms crossed, looking childish. Childish. The word rang through his head, and he made a failing attempt to ignore it.

"I'm sorry ma'am. I was… distracted," he said. She grinned at his formality and loss for words.

"As I was saying, your very angry dragon is outside preparing to murder my father if he tries to help her any more. The only good he did was in the minute he caught her asleep. Perhaps she would like it better if you did it. That is, if you're feeling well enough." She put on that perfect smile again, beautiful with a hint of humor behind it. He liked it.

"I think, I'll be fine, thank you…what is your name?"

"Andrea. My name is Andrea."

"Well, Andrea, shall we go downstairs?" He opened the door for her, wondering where his strange mood had come from and not caring. She smiled and walked through, green dress spinning around her.

Outside, Saphira was staring at a man, about ready to eat him. Eragon was intrigued, for the man did not back down at all. He stared back.

_Eragon, will you please inform this man to go away or become my dinner, _Saphira asked truly.

"Saphira," he said aloud for the benefit of the girl and her father. "If you want people to recognize how intelligent you are, does it make much sense to threaten to eat him? The man is only trying to help you, and you know it." She growled low in her throat.

_Stop talking to me like that, Eragon. Besides, the bony old man is not really worth it._ Eragon sighed.

"She won't eat you, sir, I promise," he said. The man chuckled.

"I wasn't too worried. It's a pleasure to meet you, Eragon." They shook hands firmly and Eragon went over to Saphira.

_Why are you in such a rotten mood today?_

_ Why are you in such a strange, happy mood today? Eragon, I am worried about you._

_ You are worried over nothing, _he said with a smile. _I have never felt better!_

_ Yesterday we fell out of the sky! That was after you and Arya got into a fight._ Eragon stared at her incredulously. _You don't remember?_

Eragon gaped at her. What had happened to her memory? _Saphira, we were out flying when we must have gotten caught in a storm. Are you alright? Remember: in a couple days we're going to look for the Stenr Evarinya, the Star Stone. We got permission from Nasuada. That's why I'm trying to be happy, because we're about to do something dangerous, so why not live?_

_ No, Eragon. We found it…weeks ago. You and Arya and I went to Petrovya, and it was a trap. Then we found Brom, whom you killed because he was a spy of Galbatorix, pretending to be the old man. We, along with Roran and Arya went to Farthen Dur where Orik told us the king's army was about to attack. You said you would help but Arya got upset at you for that and you left. We got caught in a storm and then got struck by lightning. Please, little one, remember._

Eragon's mind reeled as the weight of it all came crashing down on him at once. He had forgotten! She showed him memories, and he recalled it all. Suddenly, he was embarrassed because of his emotion, and he ran off, overwhelmed. Why, he wondered, why do all these stupid things keep happening to me? The door of the family's barn was open, and he slipped inside and shut it. Sitting down on a pile of hay, he listened to the animals and sat in thought. Why, why, why? 


	18. Making the Best

Later that evening, as he sat deep inside the barn, Eragon heard Andrea open the door as quietly as she felt possible. She walked almost silently, unsure how much he would approve of her coming, but he could still hear her feet touch the ground. She got brave.

"Eragon?" she called softly. "What's wrong?" He remained silent, not ready to give up his dark hiding spot quite yet. And that was what it was, too: a hiding spot where he was hiding from his fears and his sorrow once again. He felt worse then, knowing he was a coward.

"Eragon, I know you're here," she said, and he could hardly resist, but he remained unwilling. Before he even stopped thinking, she was by his side. He cursed under his breath. "What happened, Eragon? Why are you upset?"

"It's nothing," he said. "I am just tired. Don't you like to sit in the barn when you're tired?"

"No, I like to sit in the barn when I'm upset," she said. "Come on. Whatever it is, you can tell me."

"It has been a bad week," he told her carefully, opening up. "I found out that my father was not still alive, that it was an imposter trying to get information, and that I had made a horrible decision. I got into a fight, left, and got caught in a storm."

"Don't forget crashed to the ground," she said, already regretting it.

"Adding to my stupidity," he muttered. He knew how annoyingly pessimistic he was being and he did not care. He wanted to be alone. Preferably, he wanted to be alone with Saphira, and she alone with him, but he was not a miracle worker. Or, apparently, he was, according to Arya. What had made her so cold, anyway?

"Eragon, you must try not to dwell on those things. Bad things happen, problems arise, but you will always be able to fix new ones if you stop dwelling on the old." He looked into her eyes then, she somehow found his, and they stared for a couple of seconds. He saw in them a word: wyrda. Wyrda meant fate. He recoiled and then felt bad, for she was staring inquisitively at him.

"You are beautiful," he said, feeling as though he had just said this to cover himself and not because he meant it, even though he did. She giggled slightly and came a little closer.

"As are you," she said under her breath. He barely heard.

"Andrea? Are you out here? Where is that boy?" He passed the barn and walked on. They both looked at each other.

"I seem to not have a name in your family," Eragon said with a smile.

"Don't worry, to everyone else you do," she said, smiling back. She got up then, and headed toward the door. "Are you coming?" He nodded and followed, feeling much better than when he had come in.

Arya had decided to head back to the Varden. She would be needed there, for as she had told Eragon, the Empire was about to strike there as well as at Farthen Dur. As she jogged in that direction, she couldn't help but think about Eragon. What had she done? Now, what had seemed like the best option then just seemed like an angry overreaction of a scared teenage girl. Who had been the adult in that situation? _The seventeen-year-old boy, of course_, she chided herself

She could hear some soldiers marching far off to her right, and she turned herself invisible for safety. Feeling anxious rather than tired, she decided to run on into the night. It was better than sleeping poorly and waking up with cramped muscles, she thought.

The stars were out, bright, cold pinpoints of light in the sky. The air had cooled down, and Arya silently wished she had dressed a bit warmer. Her mind wandered back to Eragon again, and she wondered how long this would go on. What was he doing now? Was he in danger? Was he with the Varden? …Was he thinking about her? _Ugh, why should I care if he is thinking about me or not? _She thought.

Within a somewhat short time afterward, she reached the outskirts of the Varden's camp. Hurrying to Nasuada's pavilion, questions she would ask rolled through her head. She pulled back the tent flap without asking, and no one stopped her. Nasuada stared at her for a few brief seconds.

"Where is Eragon?" They both asked at the same time. Nasuada looked up to the ceiling in despair, and Arya stared at her sadly.

"He-he left Farthen Dur…probably soon after he contacted you. I assumed he had come here, but apparently I was wrong," she said, utterly frustrated. To think, she had been ready to forgive him, even almost to stop being mad at him for loving her. _Stupid boy, _she thought for the millionth time.

"Well, I have sent someone out to look for Eragon, Roran, and you, so there is nothing more to do at this time. Believe it or not, I have something that may soon become more important." Arya sat down in shock. More important than the only good Dragon Rider missing? More important than Eragon missing?

"What is it?"

"Jeod found the last Dragon Egg. He snuck to Uru'baen. We have it!" Arya's mouth dropped open. She could not believe it. Beneath what Nasuada called a throne, there was a padded compartment, wherein sat an emerald green dragon egg. Ivory tendrils weaved across its length, and just looking at it made Arya more hopeful. The tables were about to turn, she was sure.

**A/N: Well, that's about it. I guess this chapter is shorter but I thought this was a good place to end. I'm going to try to update as soon as I can, which will hopefully be tomorrow or the day after that. Please review now with suggestions and corrections so that the next chapter will be amazing. Come on, you know you want to. I promise I'll be your best friend! Thanks for reading! **


	19. Leaving the Farm

"I want you to keep the egg in your tent, Arya," Nasuada told her.

"Of course," she replied. She picked up the emerald egg and clutched it in her arms. It was cool against her skin and smooth as a polished gemstone. But what it was worth made it even more impressive. Wrapping a cloth around it, she admired its beauty for one last second before covering it completely.

"And Arya," Nasuada began, "Do not go searching for Eragon. I need you here, for we will soon be entering battle." Arya nodded and left. She avoided running only for the safety of the egg, though she knew it was harder than diamond. Throwing open the flap of her tent, she gingerly set the egg down in a hidden corner. No one would find it, she knew, but she hid it with a simple spell that drew on the plants outside her tent and not herself.

She left to go find Eragon.

The camp was filled with the sound of people going about their days. It smelled of cooking, metal, and sweat, which somehow blended to make a pleasant aroma, despite how it sounded. A chill wind blew through camp, making her shiver, but she walked on nonchalantly to the edge of camp. She slipped around the side of a tent and ran straight into Nasuada.

"Oh, Arya," she said, hints of sarcasm in her voice. "What a surprise it is to see you here." Arya was more surprised to see her, and she knew that Nasuada knew that, so she kept her mouth shut. "You weren't…leaving or anything, were you?"

"Of course not!" She coughed nervously. "I was just walking around. Sitting in my tent under these…circumstances makes me nervous."

"That's something of what I assumed," she said with a cocky smile. Arya walked far ahead of her and entered her tent again. She pulled out a book she had picked up in Farthen Dur and began reading it.

Eragon was sitting at a table across from Andrea's Father, Torin. They were eating dinner, and he had gratefully sat down with them. It was raining outside, as a sudden storm had blown up out of the west. He had discovered that the storm had blown them to the outskirts of Melian. They did not have much farther to go until they got back to the Varden. However, something about the family, but especially about Andrea, begged him to stay just a little longer. Saphira didn't mind staying herself. She was tired and still sore, though she wouldn't outright admit it.

"Eragon, would you like to come with me tomorrow? I want to go into town to see some friends, but I don't want to go alone. Besides, it would be more interesting with you there." He agreed without another word and they resumed eating. Torin was happy that his daughter wouldn't be going alone, Andrea was happy she could go, and Eragon was happy that he could have seconds.

The next day, Eragon woke up long before dawn. Looking in a mirror, he did not see the man he usually saw. Thanks to paranoia, he had already disguised himself with the simple addition of looking more human. He was wide-awake, but everyone else was still asleep, so he went outside. The wood was just waking up as well, and he listened to all of the sounds. _Beautiful,_ he thought. He chuckled to himself.

_Saphira? _He called out as he came upon her. She looked up.

_Yes, Little One?_

_ Perhaps we should leave tonight. I feel I like this place too much._

_ As do I. Whenever you are ready to leave, I'll be ready._

Sensing that the rest of the household was about to wake up, he jogged back in that direction. Andrea stood at the table drinking some milk when he walked in. She smiled at him and offered him a glass.

"My father's in the barn," she informed him. "As soon as he comes back, we will leave." He nodded. In about ten minutes, Torin did return. Just as she had said, they were heading out the door by the time he reached the kitchen, but not before he gave Eragon some coins to spend. Then they were off.

"It's a beautiful morning, isn't it?" Andrea asked.

"Indeed," he agreed. "Andrea, I have something to tell you. I plan to leave tonight-I must get back to the Varden- and I was wondering if you might like to join me."

She stared at him. "Well, Eragon I-I would love to but, don't you think it would be a bad idea."

"If I thought it was, I wouldn't ask you to come." She stared at the road ahead thoughtfully for a time, then looked up.

"As I said before, I would love to come with you."

"Then it is settled. Tonight, we leave."

The rest of the trip, both of them were silent, save for their feet touching the ground. The center of town was reached by midmorning, but they had been smelling it and hearing it at least an hour before then. It was a busy morning, and many men with items for sale pushed carts along in the streets. Melian was not close to a river and export was difficult, so they made their money off each other.

They ducked into an alley and travelled until they reached a less busy part of town. This was apparently where Andrea's friends were. When they finally stopped in front of a house, Eragon noticed that it was shut tight and it seemed no one was around.

"Andrea, I am afraid your friends aren't home."

"Of course not. They moved away a few weeks ago." Eragon raised an eyebrow at her. "How else am I supposed to get time alone?" When Eragon thought about how improper it was to do what she had done, he smiled.

"So, where were you actually planning on going?" He asked her.

"This way," she replied, taking him by the hand and heading left. They were running again, down another alleyway before they reached a busier area. There were fewer men selling things, but still plenty. Eragon bought them both some food, and they walked to sit down on a stoop across the street.

"I love you," she said after a time. He was not even surprised. At least she wouldn't reject him.

"I love you, too," he replied, not even having to think.

"Well," she said, and stopped.

"I will be glad to have you with me when I leave."

It was late afternoon when they finally arrived back at the farm. Torin didn't even ask what had happened that day. Eragon walked along the hallway to Andrea's room. He knocked on the door and opened it.

"Eragon, you scared me," she said, whirling on him.

"I'm sorry," he said. "So are you sure?" he asked.

"I am." She pulled a bag over her shoulder and led the way to the kitchen. It was dinnertime again, and they sat down. "Father," she began. "Eragon needs to leave soon…tonight." Eragon nodded.

"Oh?"

"He has asked me if I would come with him."

"Andrea, you must stay here," he said. "I will not have you running around without my knowing."

"But father!"

"No," he said. She nodded and left the room, tears in her eyes. Eragon looked sadly but respectfully at the man and exited the front door.

_Well, Saphira,_ he said,_ I guess that's it._ When Saphira did not answer, he looked up. She stood, ready as he had left her, with Andrea by her side. Andrea?

"I'm coming with you, no matter what my father says," she told him. Eragon was finally shocked. He smiled in the twilight, and she smiled back. Deftly, he got onto Saphira and held out a hand. He pulled Andrea up swiftly behind him, and she wrapped her arms around his waist.

Saphira flapped her wings and they gained altitude. Within a couple of flaps, they were headed west. _Well, we will be back to the Varden not long after dawn, _she said.

_Hmm._

_What troubles you, Eragon?_

_You know what troubles me._

_Not when you hide it from me._

Eragon sighed. _I still think of Arya. I love Andrea, but I am worried I still have feelings for her, too. _

_I think you have already chosen. Andrea loves you and you love her._

_But did I make the right choice?_

_That is not for I or anyone else to decide._

_At least I always have you._

_Yes, and I always have you, Little One._

**Thanks for reading this chapter! Next chapter, something very exciting is going to happen. I have some ideas, but I would like your help. Please review with ideas for the next chapter, and then I will try to put your idea into the story. If you have any other suggestions, those are welcome, too. **


	20. Realizing the Mistake

** Thank you to the people who have reviewed in the last few days: Starkiller127, MaxRidefan00, and lightyagami'sbaby. Your right lightyagami'sbaby, but the story is far from over, and things may change. In any case, I'll stop blabbing now and get on with the story. **

It was barely dawn when they reached the Varden, and Eragon was still trying to convince himself he had made the right decision. Why couldn't they find someone else to protect them? Why did it have to be only him? It took all his will to stop thinking about it.

Nasuada came rushing out of her tent.

"Eragon! Thank Guntera you're here! If you haven't noticed, we're surrounded by Galbatorix's soldiers," she informed him. Of course he had noticed. "I have something I need to show you. It's extremely important and- who is that?"

"This is Andrea," he introduced.

"And she's here because…"

"I invited her."

"Have I ever mentioned how stupid you are?" She asked him. Eragon nodded. "By the way, I thought you were helping the dwarves. Did the battle happen already?"

"No," he answered truthfully.

"What are you doing here?"

"I can't help in two places at once, Nasuada," he said, steel in his voice. "The battle there will not happen for a while yet. Perhaps I could go back if there is time." Nasuada just shook her head, frustrated.

"Just come with me." They walked swiftly through the camp to Arya's tent. She was not there, and Eragon was almost thankful. Nasuada pushed aside some things in the corner and pulled out an emerald green dragon egg. His eyes widened, as did Andrea's. "Jeod managed to get this out of Uru'Baen."

Arya walked in just then. She remained absolutely silent.

"Oh, hello, Arya," Nasuada greeted. "I apologize for our being in here, but I figured Eragon should know about the egg, too."

"Of course," she said. Eragon had expected sarcasm, but he heard none.

Eragon went to bed early that night, feeling very tired. Nasuada had taken Andrea away to let her sleep somewhere, and Saphira was practically ignoring him. He was alone. Rolling over, he fell into an unpleasant sleep.

Arya was not feeling much better. She placed the green egg on her cot and stared at it. Once, she thought she heard it squeal, but perhaps it was only her imagination. Placing it on the table near her, she turned the lights out, laid on her bed, and closed her eyes.

A piercing squeak filled her ears immediately.

Sitting up, she looked around, and her eyes focused on the egg. A few more little squeals came from that direction. From the egg? She walked over to it. It wobbled fiercely and rolled along the table, and she caught it when it rolled off the edge. She set it down on the bed.

With one final shriek it cracked open and out popped an emerald dragon. Arya gasped in shock; she could not believe it. The dragon had hatched for her? On her cot, it jumped back as it sneezed. She giggled slightly. As she sat down, it reached out and touched her right hand.

An overpowering shock ran through her body, like liquid fire. She yelped in pain and tried to hold down her dinner. Laying on her bed, she waited forever for the pain to go away.

Eragon appeared in her tent somehow. _Always trying to be the hero, _she thought. What was he doing here?

"Why are you here?"

"I heard you scream," he replied, looking at the ground.

"Everything is fine. I'm guessing it's your cowardly girlfriend who screamed," she offered. She recalled a snake crawling up the side of Andrea's tent and several of the girl's screams that went with it. The snake was no longer than Arya's hand: she knew because she had held it.

Eragon rolled his eyes. The dragon hit the palm of her hand underneath the blanket, and she tried to cover up a wince. "The egg hatched?" He asked incredulously as he looked at pieces of giant, green eggshell.

"Yes, it did, Eragon. Why else would it be cracked all over the floor?" He did not answer; it was not necessary. "Please go." He did.

A loud horn sounded, waking Arya. It was the warning for battle, and her heart pounded in nervousness. _What am I going to do with you?_ The little dragon cocked its head at her thoughts._ Stay here_, she said over and over. Slipping on some day clothes and a pair of gloves, she trotted outside. Somehow, Eragon managed to meet up with her, and in turn the two of them met up with Nasuada.

"Is the egg safe, Arya?" Nasuada asked her.

"Yes, the egg cannot be stolen," she replied.

_The egg cannot be stolen because there is no longer an egg to steal, _Eragon said in her mind.

_She did not ask you, _Arya snapped. She wondered how she would explain this to Nasuada.

Eragon mentally chuckled at Arya for a few more seconds, and then hopped on Saphira, who had landed in front of him. The enemy was not waiting for the Varden to get ready, and neither was he. Nasuada's orders had been to begin fighting as soon as you got a weapon in your hands, and her specific orders for him were to get out there before those people did.

Saphira shot into the air and soared over the heads of the enemy, spitting fire in all directions as fast as she could. They landed in the midst of the fighting, and Eragon brandished Brisingr over his head. They slashed at everything that moved, seeming as one in their fighting.

_Eragon, I am going back into the air._ He seated himself again, slicing through soldiers all the while. They rose up and swung around to a different area. He began slashing again.

Everything was moving in slow motion, and he looked to his left to see Andrea. In her hand, she held a sword, but she looked as if she did not know what to do with it. A man screamed and brought his blade down on her, and she collapsed, mortally wounded. A great amount of anger erupted inside Eragon, and he fought even more ferociously. It killed him that he could not risk helping her.

Eragon looked to his right and saw Arya. She was dead tired and surrounded by a whole group of enemy soldiers. With grace and swiftness, she flipped her sword around, killing off half of them in just a few moments. But then one man flung his sword out in a wild attempt to hit her, and the blade struck. She went down. He was not angry. She had fallen, and he was not angry. He was furious. He could save one, right now. That was all he could have time for.

Without even thinking, he jumped off Saphira and began making an arduous path to the right. He scooped up the injured, bloody Arya and carried her back. Her eyes opened and stared into his briefly before she closed them again. He strapped her into the saddle straps and urged Saphira into the sky.

They flew up onto a ledge, far out of the way of the battle, and Eragon took Arya off the saddle. He laid her on the ground and healed her wounds. There she lay, pure white skin against the dark grey sky.

_Arya, _he begged. _Arya, wake up. Please. _With that, her eyes blinked open slightly. She coughed, then suddenly sat up.

"Eragon, what are you- why are we up here?" She had a frustrated look on her face.

"You were wounded, and I pulled you out," he said.

"I saw Andrea get wounded, is she alright?" It was a strange question, but it seemed like she actually cared.

"No. I could only save one person."

"And so you saved me? Why?"

"How could I not? You are the only thing I see when I close my eyes at night, and you are what makes me want to open them again every morning. If I even try to think about what would happen if you were gone, a part of my heart disappears. How could I ever live without you?"

"Eragon…." She paused, ready to reprimand him. "How I have convinced myself that you and I are not meant to be, I do not know. But of this, I am certain: I could never love anyone anymore than I love you, Eragon Shadeslayer." It was at this point that Eragon's heart skipped a dozen beats and his head spun. She loved him, finally loved him, and now he was at a loss for words. What happens now? He wondered.

"I love you, too, Arya, more than the world can understand." Everything moved faster than he could comprehend. He was kissing her before he knew what happened, and he adored the moment.

"Oh, Eragon, I am so sorry."

"So am I. Forgive me."

"Of course I do. Now, if you have forgotten, there is a battle going on down there, and I think we should go help." Eragon nodded. They climbed on Saphira, each with a blade in hand, and rode down to the battlefield. The tables were turned, the battle won, within a short while.

The enemy retreated, but not without taking a toll on the Varden. So many people had fallen; many did not survive. Eragon and Arya walked around the area together, helping whomever they could and checking to see who was alive and who was dead. They came upon Andrea, who was obviously dead, and Eragon felt sad. Her father didn't even know where she was, much less that she was no longer living.

Eragon stooped down and brushed her eyelids closed. Placing his arm around Arya, he walked away. It was a new day now, and there was no time to dwell on the past.

**So, what did you think? Let me know with your review! I hope you liked it. **


	21. Avoiding the Inevitable

**Finally, I got this chapter done. I'm so sorry it took so long to update. I was really busy, and then when I finally sat down to write this chapter, I had major writer's block and it took me FOREVER. I really am sorry and I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

_What are you doing?_ Arya kept asking herself this as she sat inside her tent. It was, indeed, a good question. She had told Eragon she loved him, _kissed _him, not to mention let him put his arm around her, and she hadn't said a thing to stop him. Why not? She ran her fingers along a cut on her arm and healed it, then scratched her nameless dragon on the head. _Perhaps,_ she thought,_ I should go back and tell him I did not know what I was doing, that I was feverish at the time._ It was a lie, and a stupid one at that.

_We cannot be together. He's just a seventeen-year-old foolish boy…but strong. We both have work to do…in the same place. It is just a big distraction…but a broken heart is a bigger distraction. We are of different races…that doesn't mean a thing._ She sighed. None of the excuses, and that was what they were, came without contradictions anymore. There was no winning.

But what was winning? It seemed to be that winning in this case was proving fate wrong. Yes, that was it; it was to fate she was making the excuses, to fate and to herself. Fate was not convinced, and now, neither was she.

Arya knew she wouldn't sleep now, not after all this thinking and worrying. She paced around her tent. _Why am I so worked up? Maybe Eragon won't mention anything about it. Perhaps he didn't believe it either. I won't say a word, and it will all be over by morning. Anyway, I have nothing to worry about yet. It's not like he is going to appear outside my tent and sweep me off my feet by the firelight. _

Suddenly, a flickering light cast shadows on a wall of the tent. Arya stepped slowly outside, puzzled. Not far away, Eragon sat with his back to her by a small fire. She rolled her eyes. _Really?_ She thought, looking up at the sky._ Well, at least he hasn't swept me off my feet. _Without thinking about it, she walked over and stood silently behind him.

"Hello, Arya," he said without turning around. It wasn't as if he had expected her, just that he was not surprised to see her.

"What are you doing out here, Eragon?"

"I'm sitting out by the fire. Why?" _Any man could have told me that! _She sighed.

"You decided to start a fire right next to my tent?"

"I suppose I did. I'm sorry, would you like me to move?" He looked up and asked, not unkindly. She suppressed a second sigh.

"Eragon, I need some advice, and it seemed you should be the person to ask," she said. She sat down and he raised an eyebrow. Arya ran her fingers through her hair, feeling unprepared for what she was about to say.

"What is it?"

"What can be done if one person meets another and they know they're meant to be from the start, but one of them decides they can't be together? What if there was a huge difference in age between the two? What if they would each be a distraction for the other? What if they were from two very different backgrounds? If even one of them still can't get over his or her feelings, should they try to remain apart? Should they try to deny fate?" Eragon's face was downcast, and he looked very disappointed.

"I know what you want me to say Arya, so yes, they should." He looked at her and smiled sadly, bravely. "Thank you for talking with me out here. It's cold, and I'm going back to my tent." He said it politely, but he did not even try to mean it. Arya was confused. _What did I say? I must be more out of practice at this than I thought. _

"Eragon, wait!" She jogged after him. He stopped and turned around, his face utterly blank. Arya finally understood. "I was not talking about you, Eragon, I was talking about myself." He looked at her, and a grin spread across his face.

"Is there any chance I can change my answer?" He asked. Arya smiled.

Arya awoke early the next morning. She had slept very well, despite the loss of half a night, and felt wonderful. Her very playful little dragon, though still small, seemed to have grown almost overnight. She felt bad that she had neglected to name him, but she did not know what name he would like.

_Why don't you ask him?_ The voice resounded through her mind. She hadn't known dragons to talk this early, but apparently, this one did.

_Alright then, what would you like your name to be?_

_ You didn't pick your name,_ he replied. Arya thought a bit. She did not want him to be named after a great dragon; she wanted him to make his name great.

_What if I named you…Talos? Would you like that?_

_ Talos._ He thought it over. _It is fine, so Talos I shall be._

Talos was very eager to learn. Each time Arya would finish telling him something, he would beg for more. She spent days alone with the little green dragon, first inside, then outside to explore everything. When she finished telling him everything that was from long ago, she told him about herself and her travels. She told of all the peoples and news in Alagaesia.

The stories he liked most, however, were those of Eragon and Saphira, but especially the latter. He looked up to Saphira and loved to hear all about her. Sitting next to her one morning as she scratched beneath his scales, Talos asked if they

Truthfully, Arya had not noticed the pass of time very much, and when she did, she panicked. She had done nothing but talk and tell stories for the passed two weeks. It would be important to see Nasuada right away.

_Come, Talos, we have spent enough time sitting around,_ she said to him.

_ Where are we going?_

_ We must visit Nasuada now. There must be something important that needs attending-to. _

Arya walked quickly through the camp to Nasuada's tent. Talos followed, and she noticed how tall he stood: an inch or two above her knee. All the guards simply let her in, and Nasuada half-smiled upon her arrival. "Where have you been?" She asked.

"I was mostly walking around outside. No one ever called us."

"No one has been able to find you. Eragon wanted to look before he left, but I told him he had no time."

"Well, I can't imagine why you wouldn't be able to find me," Arya said feeling very apologetic.

"In any case, Eragon is gone, as always, at the wrong time. I have figured out that the plan I've made won't work without him, so I will have to hold it off until he comes back."

"When did he leave?"

"Two weeks ago," Nasuada replied.

"He should be back soon, then. Good. What is your plan?"

"I feel as though we are not moving fast enough. We have sat in this same spot for quite some time, and we should move faster. We also are going to be moving in a more northeastern direction, because I feel we are still hiding, despite fighting out here like this. We are still hiding from the king, so I believe we must go and fight him and show him we are unafraid. However, being on the move more often would make us even more vulnerable, which is why I can't move until he comes back."

Arya eyed her curiously. _But we are afraid,_ she thought. "You think that we won't get killed? It will be easier for Galbatorix to destroy us the closer we get to Uru'Baen. I think that we aren't strong enough," she finished.

"Perhaps, but we shall never know until we try." She sounded insane, but she might be right.

"You're right, though, Eragon should be back before you begin," Arya said.

**I just wanted to end this chapter where it is. I hope you like it. If you do like it, review and tell me so, and if you don't like it, review and tell me why. Come on, it will make me happy! Well, thank you for reading, and I'm sorry it took me so long to update. Like I said, I was extremely busy. Anyway, thanks again.**


	22. Restarting the Search

Arya was sitting against a tree the next afternoon, scratching Talos' neck scales, when she saw a clearly sapphire dragon lowering closer to the clearing where they were. He had brought Roran, who was probably not speaking to him at this point, back with him.

_Is that Eragon and Saphira?_ She was fairly sure Talos knew it was already.

_Yes._

_ I wish we could do that,_ he said jealously.

_Someday we will, Talos. Someday._

Saphira landed almost right next to them it seemed. Arya rose, brushed the dirt off herself, and ran over to greet them, Talos behind her. Roran left without a word.

"Good afternoon, Eragon, Saphira. It's good to see you are both well," she said.

"And likewise to you Arya…I haven't heard. What is you're dragon's name?"

"_Talos,"_ they said in unison. Eragon nodded. Saphira shot up into the air, most likely to hunt. Somehow, she looked hungry. Talos flapped up after her, following closely.

Eragon chuckled. "She is not going to be very happy."

"Nor will he when she gives him a piece of her mind," Arya said with a laugh.

They watched for a time as the two dragons cart wheeled through the air. Higher and higher they went, swooping, diving, and climbing. No matter where Saphira went, Talos followed right on her tail.

_Eragon, this little thing is driving me insane! But, I think torching him would be wrong._

Eragon shook his head. _Yes, it would. _

_ Watch out for what you do, Talos. She will bite back,_ Arya warned with a smile.

_Come on, Arya! I'm just playing a-ouch! That hurt!_

Both of them landed with a thud on the ground, and Eragon and Arya went to sit against a tree. Talos continually annoyed Saphira while they talked.

"I have been thinking," Eragon said. "The Star Stone was a trap, right?" Arya nodded without needing to. "But that can't mean that the whole legend is a trap-at least I think not. Perhaps Stenr Evarinya is still somewhere in Alagaesia, and we have yet to find it. So, would you be interested in accompanying me in that search?"

"Of course, Eragon, but do you have the slightest idea as to where it is?"

"I don't," he admitted. His face brightened. "I do know where we might find out." Arya looked at him inquisitively.

"So, did you do any planning for this at all?" Arya asked Eragon from behind. She laughed at Talos twirling around them but remained somewhat annoyed at Eragon. It was midmorning, and they had been flying north toward Ellesmera since dawn.

"I put food in Saphira's saddlebags," he said with a sheepish smile.

"Good planning," she said, rolling her eyes. "Did you even talk to Nasuada before you left?"

"Of course I did. She told me of her plan to move closer to Uru'Baen. She needs to work out a few more details on that, so she agreed to our travelling to Ellesmera."

"I see," she said.

Eragon was getting tired just from lack of conversation after a time. It was early afternoon, and the sun still towered over him.

_Eragon, the silence is making me tired._

_ Well, how about we tell each other riddles?_ Saphira agreed, as he had known she would, and they began. _What always runs but never walks, often murmurs, never talks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a mouth but never eats?_

Saphira thought for a quick moment, then answered, simple: _a river. You saw me where I never was and where I could not be. And yet within that very place, my face you often see. What am I?_

_That is easy! You are a reflection. Reaching stiffly for the sky_, _I bare my fingers when it's cold, in warmth, I wear an emerald glove, and in between, I dress in gold._

It was slightly harder, but Saphira was good at riddles and she had it in a few seconds. _A tree,_ she answered._ I am alive without breath, as cold as death, clad in mail never clinking, never thirsty, ever drinking._

Eragon was not sure. He repeated the riddle to Arya, who also thought. Saphira was proud. She had confused them both.

"What is it, Saphira?" They both asked almost at the same time.

_It is a fish! _They all laughed. Soon, all three were tired, so Saphira landed near the riverbank. Eragon filled his water skin as well as Arya's before Saphira took a big gulp of water. A fire was lit, food was pulled out, and all settled in.

Picking up a dry stick, he stuck it in the fire and watched the tip burn. He shifted his weight off the hard scales of Saphira's leg and rested back again. She stared with her deep blue eyes as a wisp of smoke curled out of her nostrils.

"How long were you planning to spend in Ellesmera, Eragon?" Arya looked up at him.

"Not too long, I suppose. I would like enough time to find what I'm looking for, but perhaps we can take our time a little. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I would like it if we did take our time, just because we can," she said. It seemed strange for her to say something like that, but he agreed with her completely.

"That sounds good," he said. He had been hoping to stay a while, for Ellesmera was possibly the most interesting and beautiful place he had ever been. Arya would be with him in the beautiful, magical, romantic place, and neither of them would be angry, embarrassed, or sad.

It would be perfect.

First things first however, he needed to look for some more history about Stenr Evarinya. Something told him it was very important, and he felt he must find it.

_Eragon, perhaps it is time to go to sleep,_ Saphira suggested. _Tomorrow will be a long day. _

_ You're right. _

"I'm going to sleep Arya. We're going to get an early start tomorrow."

"That is a good idea. I believe I will do the same."

Eragon settled down near the warmth of the fire and closed his eyes.

_Good night, Saphira._

_ Good night, Little One. I love you._

_ I love you too. _

Saphira waited for Eragon to drift into his trance-sleep. She stared at Eragon, partner-of-her-mind-and-heart, and felt good. Closing her eyes, she willed tomorrow to come sooner.

** Yeah, that's where I ended. Sorry I took so long to write. I do have a life: people to visit, bridal showers to attend, family picnics to enjoy-I try to keep my schedule pretty full. Thank you for reading my story, and I would appreciate it very much if you would review. Just tell me what you think. Thanks! **


	23. Escaping the Wraiths

_Eragon watched in despair as Arya came toward him. He struggled at the bonds that restrained him, but it was no use. There was no escaping. No one else knew he was here, so no one would be coming to save him. Arya laughed, mocking his pain and suffering._

_"And you believed I loved you," she said, shaking her head. Eragon tried to get out, but he could not. _

_"Arya, please, let me go! Why are you holding me here?" Tears streamed freely down his cheeks._

"_Now, now, stop your crying. Everything will be over very soon, just be patient."_

_She took a sword-the likes of which he had never seen before-and stabbed it straight into him…a fatal wound. _

_"Goodbye, Eragon. I love you!" She laughed and laughed as he faded away._

"Noooooooooooooooooo," Eragon cried. He found himself suddenly sitting up. Arya sat right in front of him, piercing green eyes staring right into his. He stared back, breathing heavily.

"Eragon?" He ignored her. Why had he had a dream like that? "Eragon!" Now he looked. "I would never do anything to hurt you-ever. You do know that?" _I guess I know that I talk in my sleep,_ he thought.

"I know that, Arya," he said.

"Well, I believe we should get going. Daylight is being burned, and we must get there soon." Talos was nipping at Saphira's tail, and she was annoyed.

As soon as they got back on, Saphira flapped her wings, lifting them into the air. They were soon headed north again.

Arya wished that she could ride Talos, but, though he grew quickly, it was still not fast enough. _Soon_, she told herself. It would be soon, most likely before they reached Ellesmera.

That night, Arya woke up, and she was already standing, walking in fact. She looked around without willing herself. _A spirit,_ she realized. This was an evil one that had taken control of her. Had she let her guard down that much this night? Arya was scared and angry, but there was nothing she could do to stop it.

She crouched near a fireplace, sharpening a sword until it was sharp enough that she could not touch the blade without drawing blood. Eragon was unconscious, slumped against the also unconscious Saphira. Talos was nowhere to be found. Eragon would be awake soon, which was why she now sharpened this knife.

The spirit was going to kill him.

She did not want him killed, of course. Arya knew, however, that she would do so anyway, no matter what she tried to do to stop it. There was no escaping, no way out. She was trapped, forced to do what she had promised she would not. With a confidence that frightened her, she walked up to Eragon, who was now awake. She knew that he was trapped by the spirit inside her, but she did not know how.

"Breaking my heart and mind wasn't enough, Arya? You have to destroy my body as well?" He shook his head. That hurt the real part of her. Why had he said it? Deep inside where she was buried, she knew he was afraid, and she knew that the spirit was elated because of it.

"Breaking your heart is such a harsh term. This I did not do. I merely helped you to see past what could never be. I suppose it means nothing now, though, for now I have deceived you. Did you really think that I would suddenly start loving you just like that? Of course you did, that's what I wanted to happen." He remained blank faced. "A foolish boy who thinks that life, like a fairytale, can have a happy ending. Well, you're wrong. Life never has a happy ending, as you will see in a moment."

"What do you truly have to gain by killing me?"

"Enjoyment, mostly. I shall take pleasure in watching you suffer and knowing that it was my doing." _No, I won't_, said Arya.

"How can that be? I know very well that Arya wouldn't want to kill me, no matter if she had reason to or not. I'm sure she would prefer not to kill me if only you asked her." Arya was surprised. Did he know that it wasn't really she that would kill him? Was that why he was speaking like that?

"Just stop talking so I don't have to slit your throat before I've had my fun," it said through her.

"Answer me this first," he asked the spirit. "Are you afraid of dragons, spirit?" _He does know,_ Arya realized.

"It matters not. I have easily defeated the only one here," it said flipping her hair as it spoke.

"You're right; you have defeated the only dragon here. But you haven't defeated the one that's not here." Before the spirit had time to question, Talos let out a huge roar and shot down from the sky. The spirit was not ready for a fight like this, and it fled from her. Talos landed just as a wispy shadow slipped out of her.

Arya gasped for breath and shook all over, trying to recover. Eragon stood up and came over, but Talos beat him there.

_Are you all right, Arya?_ Talos asked.

_I think so. You were very brave. I was even scared._

Talos was very proud of himself, but curious as well. _What was that?_

_A spirit, I believe, possibly sent by Galbatorix. But it cannot return to him if that is the case, for it was…killed, so to speak. _

_That's good. If it had been able to return to Galbatorix, then he would have learned all the secret things that you know, right?_

_Exactly. _Arya spoke to Eragon after that, and she realized how shaken she could get.

"H-how did you know?" She asked.

"I went to sleep later than you, and I sensed something nearby, but when I looked around, I saw nothing. Then I woke up and you were standing there, ready to kill me. I looked for your mind and all I found was the brick wall of that spirit's mind. Why it did not retaliate, I don't know. But I knew that it was not you, that it was a spirit, probably sent by Galbatorix for information." He smiled just to try to make her feel better, and surprisingly, it worked.

"Thank you, Eragon. I owe you," she said. Then they kissed without even considering the surprise.

"Okay," Eragon said, sighing deeply. "We're even." They smiled at each other and remained close together, relishing the wonderful feeling.

Early the next morning, just after the sky turned from black to dark grey, Arya woke up. She lay near Eragon, and Talos had curled up beside her. Last night had been frightening, but she was trying to forget about it. She looked the emerald green dragon over, marveling again at how big he had grown, seemingly overnight. He seemed to grow so much faster than she thought dragons normally did. In fact, he might be big enough to ride today-if only for a little while.

As much as she had thought excitedly about flying in days prior, she was a bit reluctant now. Though she had been on dragons in the past, this was very different, because she was alone, Talos had little experience, and he was only just strong enough to carry her. He, however, did not want to wait any longer.

Hesitantly, she climbed smoothly onto his back-as smoothly as one can when they are shaking with nervousness. She wished she had a saddle to hold her on. Trying to calm herself down, she took a deep breath. His scales were abrasive against her legs, another reason she wished she had a saddle for him.

Surprisingly strong, Talos flapped once, twice, and was high in the sky. Wind blew through her hair and brushed against her face. He carried her higher and higher, until the trees they had camped under were now small specks on a wide, nearly flat plain.

_I didn't know you were this strong, Talos,_ Arya marveled.

_I suppose I didn't either. Are you still scared?_

_Yes, I'm terrified. But this is wonderful._

_You think that's wonderful, wait until you see this!_ Suddenly, Arya's vision blurred and then refocused. The greens were more prominent now and the blues and reds more suppressed. She felt herself outside her own body. They twisted and turned through the sky, Arya felt herself slip back into her own body.

_That was amazing! _

_I'm glad you liked it,_ Talos replied. _Maybe we won't wait so long next time._ A long time? Well, perhaps he had been ready for longer than she had thought he was ready.

_Yes, we shall fly much more often now._

_And you promise not to throw up on me?_

_I-wait! I have not done that!_

_Yet,_ he said with amusement. Talos flipped completely upside down and Arya truly did feel as though she might throw up.

_Turn over, Talos, please! _He obeyed without comment, but then took a sudden, steep dive. It seemed like they were about to hit the trees when he opened up his wings. Every muscle in his wings strained as he stopped in an open clearing, coming down with his back feet first, then his front.

Arya realized her pent-up breath and slipped off him. _Talos, that was one of the greatest things I have ever felt in my life. _She scratched under the scales of his neck, and he made a purring noise.

_This__ is one of the greatest things I have felt in my life,_ he said happily. _Now, let us go back to Eragon and Saphira. _They walked through a large gap between two trees, and found last night's camp, along with Eragon and Saphira.

"Where were you?" Eragon asked.

"Talos and I went flying for awhile," she said. He smiled.

"Did you have fun?"

"Yes," she said. "I did."

**Thanks for reading this chapter! I don't know what you think, so please review and tell me. Was the spirit a bad idea? Any suggestions? Please let me know by clicking on the button. **


	24. Receiving the Freedom

Murtagh felt the exhilaration as Thorn rose into the sky. He found what had happened this morning to be rather unbelievable. He and Thorn had been trying to escape by changing their true names for quite some time, and each had simply given up. But this morning, something had changed. This morning, Galbatorix had no control over them.

They had made sure not to let the king on to this; it would be known soon enough. Galbatorix was, after all, very good at finding true names. Instead, they would fly away as quickly as possible.

It would be utterly stupid to land in the middle of a town or crowd, and especially insane to land in the middle of the Varden's camp. However, he wished to speak to Eragon, and he wished to speak to Nasuada, the love of his life. But it needed to be done rationally. After all, why would either of them, or anyone for that matter, trust him. Even though it wasn't his fault, he had still done things to make them mistrust him.

_Why not just scry him? _Thorn asked. Murtagh didn't have an answer.

_That's not a bad idea,_ he replied. Why hadn't he thought of that sooner? He called up some water out of the ground and then spoke the words of the scrying spell.

The picture was not clear in the least. It showed Eragon riding Saphira. In the distance, large trees spanned the entire view, meaning that they were coming upon Du Weldenvarden. But from where were they coming and to where were they going? If they were going to Ellesmera, they would have stopped at the Ramr River last night and continued northeast starting this morning. It was as good a guess as any, he thought.

Thorn banked to the right and began heading in a more northeasterly direction.

The ride seemed to go quickly, and soon enough they could see the small blotch that was Eragon and Saphira, along with a strange smaller blotch nearby. Cautiously, Murtagh reached out with his mind. He hit the brick wall of Eragon's defenses.

_Eragon, its Murtagh. Eragon?_ The wall came apart suddenly, but Murtagh did not flash inside, he merely called out again. _Eragon?_

_Murtagh?_ His half brother's voice rang through his head.

_I must speak with you immediately. Do you trust me enough to do that?_

_We will be landing then. Will this turn into a battle, Murtagh?_

_Upon my word as a Rider, _he said in the Ancient Language. By now, Rider and dragon both knew what the other blotch had been: another dragon. As they drew closer still, he saw that the rider was the elf princess Arya. They landed, and Murtagh jumped off Thorn. He left is sword Zar'roc on the ground and came to the very middle of the two positions. Eragon stood opposite him, his hand on his sword.

"Eragon just put it down. I want nothing but a conversation, and unless you start it, there will be nothing more. I respect your precaution, but it is not necessary," he said calmly.

"And why is it unnecessary?" Eragon asked.

"I am no longer forced to kill you."

_No longer forced to do anything,_ Thorn corrected.

_Give it time, Thorn._

"So then, you're…free?"

"As free as people get in a land like this."

"And how would I know that you were telling the truth," he asked. Murtagh knew he already believed it, but the information was still needed.

"Eka thorta du ilumeo, Eragon Shadeslayer. I speak only the truth. Forgive me for all I have said and done to you, brother."

"You are forgiven in full," Eragon said with a grin. "Now, how do you plan on telling the girl of your dreams?"

"I have tried to figure that out, but it will not be easy," he replied.

"Well, she still loves you, so it can't be too hard."

"We'll see. I see you brought a friend," he glanced at Arya, standing next to the green dragon.

"Aye. Talos hatched for her very recently. He grows even faster than Saphira, and has a quite the sharp mind for his age."

"Interesting. So, are you headed to Ellesmera?" He wondered.

"We are," Eragon replied. "I am trying to gather information on something, and I plan to go to the library there to help me in my search."

"Would you mind if I came along?" He asked.

"Not really, I suppose. You're going to have to be extremely careful, though." Murtagh nodded.

And so they all left, heading for the forest of Du Weldenvarden directly ahead.

**I am very sorry this chapter is so short, but I just need it to be. Trust me? Please review. Oh, and thank you, , for reminding me about Murtagh. I would have completely forgotten. I hope you liked this chapter, despite its shortness. Any comments, suggestions, congratulations, or criticism would be much appreciated. Thank you! **


	25. Entering the City

The soft, needle covered ground crunched slightly and absorbed most of the sound of the dragons landing. Light barely made its way through the dense forest, but in every spot that it did, many flowers and shrubs grew. Vines stretched their way up the enormous trees, trying to get to the sunlight. It was in this exact place, this beautiful work of art that an elven guard stood.

All four spoke in the Ancient Language the formal lines when it was their turn.

"Good morning, Shadeslayer, Drottingu," he said pleasantly. Then he looked at Murtagh and a scowl formed on his face. "He is not welcome here."

"None of us will be here very long. Eragon simply has something he needs to research and I have something I need to find as well," Arya explained.

"But for him, it is too long. If you want, Princess, I will kill him now."

"No. You not kill him. If I wanted him dead, I would have put him to death long ago. But he is free now, and I trust him to some degree, so he comes with us. Would you deny Eragon or I entrance?"

"Of course not. It is just-

"Then he will be the same way," she said, her voice like ice. Then, her voice sweetened. "So, may we come in?"

Eragon watched with amusement as he hurried to let them in. He still scowled at Murtagh and Thorn as they passed through. It was interesting; the guard had not even mentioned the presence of a big green dragon at all.

Though inside he had known that many of the elves were gone from Ellesmera, Eragon was still surprised at how empty it seemed as they walked along. A few he could see inside their homes and others stood outside, but there were not many. Everything was quiet and almost depressing, so different from the last time he had walked through.

"Murtagh, do you want to come with me?" Eragon asked.

"Sure," he replied.

"And how long did you say this was going to take?" Murtagh wondered, looking around the huge library.

"Not long. I know what I'm looking for." Eragon was surprised when he found an entire book on Stenr Evarinya. Had he only had this the first time…

"So this is what you're looking for," he said, reading over Eragon's shoulder. "Stenr Evarinya, the Star Stone. And what brought this on?"

"I was tricked into finding a fake one, and now I want to find out if there truly is a real one."

Arya stood on the balcony that extended from her bedroom. Every time she came here, memories flooded through her mind. They were painful, but she wanted them to come. She wanted to feel again all the things she had done wrong and all the steps she had taken to make them right again.

Gazing down, she saw a young Faolin staring up at her. A younger version of herself leaned at the other end of the balcony.

_"And how do you suggest I get down there?"_ She asked with a laugh.

_"You're brave, just jump,"_ he replied, smiling.

_"I can't Faolin, it is too high!"_

_ "Fine. Then I shall just have to come up."_ With a giggle, she moved closer to the middle. He swung himself up from the tree and stepped lithely onto the balcony. He sighed. _"How beautiful the world is, and how much more beautiful are you, Arya."_

_ "Oh Faolin,"_ she said.

_ "Arya, you are the light of my life, the only one on my mind when I sleep at night, and the only one I wake for in the morning. You are my sunshine and my rain. You are the music in me. And I love you with all my heart."_

He handed her a living flower made of gold. She lay her head down on his shoulder as they stared away into the distance. Then, the memory faded, and Arya felt empty. She was suddenly very angry with herself. _How could you let him slip away so quickly? Now all you're left with is your own stupid emotions and…_

"Arya," Eragon's voice echoed from somewhere in the streets below. _And Eragon,_ she finished angrily. She went back through her bedroom and eventually made it outside. She found her horse. With a word, she got on and galloped away.

Talos flew above her head. _Where are you going?_

_ Away from here,_ she answered coldly.

_Wouldn't it be faster if you were flying?_ She did not answer him, but after a time she stopped, climbed smoothly onto Talos and soared into the sky, trying to get away from the pain.

He felt his eyes widen. "No," he said. "There is no way."

"What?" Murtagh asked, looking up from a book.

"If this is correct, then Stenr Evarinya is in Carvahall. _It was buried long ago by the elf Eragon, who started the Dragon Riders, and can be found near the outskirts of Carvahall_," he read. "_But be warned, all who dare find it. Possessing this fearsome stone does not come without consequence. Cursed be the one to first lay his hands upon the treasure. Cursed with death!..._ That sounds delightful," Eragon said.

"Well, luck to you then," said Murtagh, heading out the door.

"You don't really believe it, do you?"

"Actually, I do. And unlike you, I value my life, so I would rather stay away from a cursed piece of rock."

"So you won't help me find it then," he analyzed sadly, waiting patiently. "I suppose I shall just go on this venture alone, Saphira and I struggling through toils and tribulations with no one to help us, crying out in pain and suffering that would have been completely avoided with the help of one man and his dragon…"

"Oh fine! But I blame you when I get cursed with death," he said.

"Then you're coming. Good. Now I must tell Arya!"

"Of course," Murtagh said, rolling his eyes.

"Arya," Eragon called, running outside. He caught a glimpse of someone on the balcony of Arya's bedroom, but there was only a swaying curtain in the doorway. He walked all over, looking for her, but he could not find her.

Suddenly, he saw-out of the corner of his eye- a green dragon falling below the horizon. Talos-with Arya- seemed to be headed away from Du Weldenvarden. Eragon ran up to Arya's bedroom and out to the balcony. Of to one side, someone had laid a golden rose, worn but still beautiful, on the table.

"Arya," he called, knowing she was gone.

**Another short one! I know. The next one will be way longer, I promise. Please don't be mad. =( Please review and tell me what you think. I would feel honored to hear from you. **


	26. Taking the Blows

The wind blew tears from her eyes, but it could do nothing for her thoughts. Arya still sat upon Talos, still trying to escape her fear, her doubt, her pain. But why? The feelings remained-as usual- stabbing at her mind, tearing at her heart. They would not disappear, and she could never hide them.

Faolin had been the only one that made life worth living, and once he was gone, there was no reason to stay alive. Yet she remained. But who could really be sure? Would she have survived if Eragon had not come around?

Eragon was different. From the start, she knew he was not the one that made life worth living, nor the one whom she would always live with. From the start, she knew he was not the one that got her out of bed, nor the one that embraced her and kissed her before battle. No.

He was the one that made life livable, and the one that she would never live without. He was the one that got her through the day, and the one that went in to battle with her. He was the one that picked her up when she fell down and brought her hope when all was lost.

But what if that went away?

What if he were gone? He could dull the stabs of pain for now, but he never took it away. The pain would strengthen, worsen, and she would never have anyone to take it away.

She could not decide.

_Why are we leaving? _ Talos looked back at her.

_ I can't be with him,_ she said sadly.

_ Eragon? Why not?_

_ I need to learn how to live without anyone else._ Talos snorted at this. He seemed a little insulted. _Of course, I will have you. _

_ Nice try, _he said.

_You know what I mean. I need to become as independent on the inside as I try to make myself look on the outside. I love you in a different way, Talos, and I will always have you around with me. I know you understand, now stop being a baby._

Talos was upset at being called such.

_Talos, I'm sorry. _She scratched under the green scales in front of her. _You are the best, bravest, most handsome dragon in the world; those are only a few reasons why I love you._

_ That feels good._

_ Am I forgiven?_ She asked.

_All right. I forgive you. I can't stay with Eragon anymore. I love him, but he's breaking my heart._

_ I think you're breaking your own heart._

Perhaps he was right. Maybe she was indeed breaking her own heart. All the same, she could stay with him no longer, for their love for each other made the pain and fear worse.

"She told me she loved me," Eragon said, staring out at the city. He wasn't trying to be overdramatic, but he realized it sounded that way. With a sigh, he turned to Murtagh, who was unsure what to say.

"What will you do now?" He asked.

Eragon hesitated. "I'm still going to find that stone. Do you still wish to come with me?"

"I know it bothers you that she's gone, but for me, nothing has changed. I'm still following you around and possibly losing my life no matter who is going." Eragon stared at him. "Yes, I'm coming!"

"Good."

"Where are we going?"

"Carvahall of course. We must get there as soon as possible."

"Oh, no you won't," a voice said ominously from behind him. Eragon whirled. A tall man dressed in scarlet approached him. His eyes were shiny silver and his hair the color of his clothes.

"Who are you?" Eragon asked, drawing his sword. Murtagh stood behind him, eyes filled with hate.

"It does not matter. I speak for king Galbatorix. He wants you…alive. Surprisingly, I can't imagine why he would bother. I might think you'd be scraping the rat droppings off the dungeon floor, but I see you already have," he looked pointedly at Murtagh.

"I think you're speaking of yourself," Murtagh said. He drew his sword and laid it upon the man's neck in a single, quick motion.

"Your freedom doesn't make you invincible, Murtagh. When you come with me, for I must bring you alive as well, Galbatorix may as well kill you. After all, you're of the same use alive or dead. Who knows? He may have discovered you true name already."

"Didn't you learn your lesson in the dungeon? The king hates when you speak in that tone." The man's eyes narrowed. Obviously, they knew each other. "He has no name, but he is basically the replacement of the shade Durza," Murtagh informed Eragon. Eragon didn't feel very informed.

"We will not be coming with you," Eragon said.

The man nodded. "Well, I cannot force you, so I guess you're right. But I believe it best to inform you that Galbatorix is also looking for the stone you seek. You may want to put on a better outfit for when you meet him. It would be shameful to die in clothes like that."

Eragon stared at him, ready to strike, but Murtagh beat him to it. The man was dead, a mocking smile on his face.

"His death did not pay for his crimes," Murtagh said, shaking his head.

"What do we do now?"

"Why do you even ask? You know that you're still going to end up waltzing right into the king's death trap in Carvahall no matter what I say."

"You're right; I am."

Murtagh rolled his eyes. "Let's go." Eragon grinned as he climbed on Saphira.

_And you are sure you want to go, Eragon?_

_ As sure as I've ever been of anything._

_ That is a lie._

_ I know, but I'm going anyway._

When Talos finally landed, they were back in the Varden's camp. It was the best place for her to be right now, in Arya's opinion. There hadn't been a battle for a while, so it was high time for a fight. She needed to be there for it.

Talos landed with his back feet first, then the front. The ground around them shook a little. Arya slid off and immediately headed for Nasuada's pavilion. As soon as she mentioned her name at the door, Nasuada poked her head out and pulled her inside.

"Arya, I can't stand it anymore!"

"What?"

"A girl came into camp the other day and-as all strange people should do-spoke to Angela, who brought her here."

"What is strange about her?"

"Despite the fact she's just strange on her own, she's a shape shifter. The best I've ever seen. And believe me, I've seen a few. Anyway, I'm sure she's spying on me, waiting to sneak in and get me in my sleep. There she is now!" She screamed, pointing to a fly that flew over their heads and landed on the wall

"It's just a fly, Nasuada," Arya said. The fly disappeared.

"No, she is right, it's me," a voice from behind them said. Nasuada jumped back faster than what seemed possible.

Arya turned to see the girl. She had a young, beautiful face, but her long hair was a mixture of chocolate brown and cloud grey, proving she was probably a lot older than she appeared. _Maybe older than me,_ she wondered, curious about the girl.

"What is your name?" She asked.

"I am called Sienna."

"And you wish to join the Varden?"

"I do. If the Lady Nasuada does not wish me to, however, I will just be on my way," Sienna said.

"No. I apologize, Sienna, for my behavior just before. You are welcome to join the Varden; in fact, it would be very much appreciated."

"Then I shall. But I believe I should inform you: I have one more gift."

"And what would that be?" Arya asked. Nasuada looked with curiosity.

"At random times, I am able to see into the future. I cannot control it, but it happens very often." Nasuada nodded her head.

"Welcome, Sienna. It is a pleasure to have you on our side," Nasuada said, shaking her hand.

** Well, that's it. So, what do you think of Sienna? Give me your thoughts so I can get ideas to improve. I hope you liked this chapter! Sorry it took so long after I got back from vacation to get this posted. Have an awesome day!**


	27. Facing the Facts

**A/N: Hey everybody! It's been a long time! Eighth grade doesn't leave much time for writing, and I've also been working on stories outside of fan fiction. Thank you so much for reading my previous chapters and please continue to read and review my story. I really hope you enjoy it! Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: I assume you all know this, but I do not own the Inheritance Cycle. That role belongs to one of my inspirations, Christopher Paolini. **

Arya had gone to bed that night in her tent, just trying to get away from everything that crowded her mind. Of course, that did not happen, and she remained awake for a long time. Her thoughts were clouded with indecision.

If she loved Eragon so much, why had she left him? The answer she gave herself was always the same: she needed to focus on the Varden and on her people. There was going to be a huge battle soon-you could just feel it in the air- and both the Varden and the elves needed her help. But did Eragon need her too?

She didn't have an answer to that, but she just felt that she needed to focus on the parts of her life that really mattered, and not on her emotions. Her emotions could be her downfall in a battle or anywhere else, and she could not let them get in her way.

A new person had joined the Varden. Her name was Sienna, and she was a shape-shifter who claimed to see into the future. If this was true, she could be a valuable addition to the Varden, but it might not be true. The whole camp was very wary of her, and it was understandable. No one knew how dependable she was in battle, and she had yet to prove herself trustworthy. But she seemed honest-as honest as a person like her could ever seem to be.

Arya made her way through the camp to Nasuada's tent. Nasuada was holding an important meeting concerning the place to which they would be moving next. It was time to go in for the kill, she thought. But that was just her opinion.

Nasuada seemed upset that Eragon was still out searching for "that accursed stone", as she put it. But she sat down and began the decision-making.

"Nasuada, if I might make a suggestion?"

"Go ahead."

"It seems to me that we have waited long enough. It's time to make our attack on the Empire at its source. Yes. It's time we go to Uru'baen. The Varden is known to some as the Freedom Fighters is it not? Let us keep our title then and fight for our freedom!"

"But princess," Blodhgarm argued. The elf who had come to be Eragon's guard had been invited to this meeting because he knew much in the way of strategy and he was trustworthy enough to be involved. "Perhaps it is better for our people to reach this place first. The elves can help the Varden and strengthen them to stand up against Galbatorix. Do you agree, Nasuada?"

"Well, I" she was interrupted by a guard at the entrance to the tent.

"My lady, a man is here to see you. He is Roran, cousin of Eragon Shadeslayer. He's in a sorry state out here." Roran? Arya had forgotten all about him. He had been left with the dwarves! He must be furious, she thought. And tired, she added afterward, as he must have had a long trip.

The tent flap pulled back and Roran appeared in its place. He looked half-dead, his clothes worn with work and travel and coated with dirt. Although he was as dirty as the roads of Alagaesia themselves, his eyes were bright, though with excitement or livid anger Arya was unsure.

She soon found out. "He left me!"

"Yes, Roran, I know, but he had his reasons with me and with his own…adventures."

"Do you not care? No one knows where he is anymore! His "adventures" have led him into a bunch of danger I'm sure. I have grown up with him, and I know he will go after that stone no matter what kind of trouble it could cause for him. Trouble follows him everywhere, so it will be dangerous. And all you say is he had his reasons? You're just worried about yourself."

"Roran, remember your place!"

"I'm sorry, Lady Nasuada. My journey here was long and hard, and I am very tired. Please forgive me."

"You are forgiven. I'll have you know that I am terribly worried about him, but I also know we can't go around sobbing over it. We must hope for his return but continue to move along."

"Very true."

"Now, we are in the middle of a meeting, so if you could go-

"Wait! Ask him what he thinks," Angela, the herbalist, suggested. Everyone just stared at her, so she did the asking. "Arya thinks we should go to Uru'baen next and fight the Empire at it's source. Do you agree boy?" Of course, thought Arya, we resort to asking the common farmer about battle strategy.

"Aye. I'm not an expert in this, but I agree. The Varden is prepared, and we can fight at Uru'baen. Then the elves can reinforce our men when they arrive. If we wait for them to come here before acting, it will take longer for us to make a move on the capital, and they will long be prepared for our attack." He nodded then, satisfied with how he had stated it.

"Why don't we call him here more often?" Angela asked.

"He does have a decent sense of strategy," Nasuada agreed. "Thank you, Roran. I think I agree with both of you. The question that remains is: how do we go about it? Sit down, if you would, and join us in this meeting.

Arya barely heard the rest of the discussion. She tried to focus, but every time she looked at Roran, every time she even heard him speak, she saw and heard Eragon. No matter how badly she wanted to push that boy out of her head, he came back in with more force than ever.

In no time at all, though it couldn't have come soon enough, the meeting adjourned. Talos had slept through the entire meeting outside the tent, thanks to his fast flight out of Ellesmera and back to the Varden. He had flown a long way, and he needed the rest. But as she exited the tent, he stirred and opened his eyes, a puff of dark smoke slithering out of his big, green nose.

_Talos, I cannot get him out of my head,_ she told him.

_Eragon? If he remains in your thoughts through everything that has happened, then you must love him. _

_ I do, but I must not. We cannot be together. He is a child and he cannot replace Faolin. I need to learn to focus on my people and the Varden. Look at me. I am a Dragon Rider now, and what have I done for Alagaesia that is any different from what I did before? I need to forget Eragon. For myself and everyone else._

_ I think you are hurting yourself, Arya, _Talos told her. _And you will hurt yourself worse by forgetting someone you love. _

"Arya!" She turned to see Roran running between the tents toward her. When he reached her, he spoke slowly, sounding out of breath. "You seemed distracted at the meeting. I know we do not know each other well, but could you tell me what is wrong?"

"I was…distracted," she replied.

"Can I ask you something?" She nodded in reply. "What happened between you and Eragon? Why did he leave so quickly, and why were you so upset that day? I mean, of course, if you don't mind my asking."

"It was nothing. Nasuada called him to go back to the Varden, as you know, and he did. As for me, I was not in the best mood. That is all. I know he likes me, but I've already told him I cannot and will not be with him."

"Arya, he loves you. He loves you more than you even know." Arya knew this. She already knew of his love, and she knew what it was doing to her. It was turning her mind into a puddle of murky water, and she was trying to find the surface. Suddenly, everything came crashing down inside, and she stopped lying. She stopped weaving her words to hide her confusion.

"I want to be with him, but I can't," she said feeling awful. "It will get in the way of my work."

"You are both working for the same cause! To be honest, not being with him is getting in the way more than being with him. Now I'm not here to force you to love Eragon. But I see you together, and I can see there is something there that is not here while he's gone." Arya felt embarrassed. She always tried to stand tall above everyone else, to be powerful above everyone else, but here she was, about to break down right now.

"I love him. I just don't know what to do." She could hardly ask him. "What should I do?"

"Tell him."

"He will never love me now," she argued. She felt the way Eragon must have felt. Devastation, embarrassment, and sadness filled her mind.

"Aye, he will. But you need to go to him as he came to you and promise him that your love is true and that he will remain in your heart forever."

"Thank you, Roran," she told him. With that, Arya ran off.

She ran through the camp to her tent, Talos close behind her. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she sat on her bed. _Look what Eragon has done to me_, she said. _He has turned me into a child._

**Thank you so much for reading this! Now please help me make my story better by reviewing. Tell me what you thought of this chapter or make suggestions for the future. I'd love to get your opinion. Thanks again!**


	28. Finding the Stone

**Thank you so much for reading! Hope you enjoy this chapter. Please review!**

It was pouring rain by the time Eragon and Murtagh reached Carvahall. Saphira and Thorn tried to fly over the storm clouds, but the air was too windy and cold as ice, so they soon had to drop through the dark bloated clouds.

Eragon shivered in the cold air and leaned closer to Saphira. _A perfect day for flying,_ he thought sarcastically. Saphira landed on her back feet first, and when her front feet landed, they made a sloshing sound on the wet ground as she did so.

They had stayed in Ellesmera for a few days, as they had been asked by the few elves that were still there. It had taken them time to open up to Murtagh, for they knew of what he had done. But soon, he had proved himself to be trustworthy, and though they had not treated him with love, they had not sent him away.

Murtagh already had his sword at the ready. He swung it in a wide circle and steadied his grip on the handle as he jumped off his dragon. Eragon nimbly slid off Saphira and caught up to him. Both knew they must be prepared for what might come, for King Galbatorix himself might be waiting in the trees and tall grass that surrounded the abandoned city of Carvahall.

Eragon had to wonder something. What if the stone was buried on his property? He, his uncle, and Roran might have walked over the spot several times before Eragon knew of magic at all.

Suddenly, Eragon had a feeling. Something pointed him in the direction of where his house had once stood. It was persistent voice, and it made him nervous. Obviously, Murtagh was getting the feeling too, because Eragon's nervousness reflected in his face. But, they decided to follow it, keeping a careful lookout for anything suspicious.

"Do you think Galbatorix will be here?" He asked Murtagh.

"I don't know, but I hope not. He is a terrible man."

"I believe it." As soon as he said that, he tensed up. He had heard something, he was sure of it.

"What? Did you hear something?" Murtagh hadn't heard it. But Eragon's hearing was a little better, so he still kept listening. Not a sound. They kept moving, even more paranoid than before. He just wanted to get the stone; the sooner they found it, the sooner they could leave.

There it was. A noise again. The sound of an arrow being strung, a bowstring pulling back. Release! Faster than the human eye could follow, he dropped to the ground, pulling Murtagh down with him. He felt a breeze over his head as an arrow buried itself in the tree nearest them. Realizing he had been holding his breath, he silently released it.

He looked over at Murtagh and saw that his palm was glowing. "What are you doing?" He asked in a whisper. Murtagh continued to concentrate. Eragon shoved him. "Stop!"

"Do you think I'm going to sit here and let them play games with us? I'm hitting him."

"Can't you see that is exactly what he wants you to do? You don't even know who he is. Maybe it was just a poor shot from a hunter."

"Sure. That was pretty good aim for a poor shot. Picture that arrow in one of our heads," Murtagh said. Eragon tried not to look.

"Let's just leave. Maybe someone just heard a noise and shot. If we are quiet, they might assume it was a bird or a rabbit."

"Fine. Stand up slowly now. Keep your head down." Eragon did so and took a step. Another arrow flew past and missed his nose by an inch.

"Run!" They both said at once. They bolted. Arrows rained down through the trees, and Eragon figured it was a miracle that they didn't look like walking pincushions yet. He let the magic in him come up to where he could use it, and Murtagh did the same. In this way, they shielded themselves. Of course, Eragon thought, nothing is ever easy.

Arya and Talos flew as fast as they could to Carvahall. She had scried Eragon and seen him there. So the stone was in Carvahall.

_What do you think the stone is?_ Talos asked.

_I don't know. The fake one was like an Eldunari. It belonged to Saphira, the great dragon of Brom. I just don't know why Eragon is so interested in searching for it. _

_Hmm. Perhaps he thinks he knows what it is, but he doesn't want to tell anyone because he is unsure. _

_Perhaps. Or maybe the boy is crazy._

_You should not speak of him like that. You may be older than him, but he and his dragon Saphira have done great things, and he should be respected. He has done much more…He has done much more than we have done for Alagaesia. _

_I have done plenty for Alagaesia._

_As a Rider? That is what I meant. As dragon and Rider, we have done next to nothing for this land. _

_I suppose you're right Talos. But we shall start. We shall start by saving the great Eragon Shadeslayer from the trouble I'm sure he has gotten himself into. _

Eragon and Murtagh finally ducked into a thorn bush. The thorns were painful, but it would certainly not be the first place their pursuers would look. Trying not to move around too much, they used a spell to make themselves invisible and carefully exited the bush. Eragon tried to avoid puddles so he wouldn't splash, but it was difficult.

They were thrilled when the men ran in a different direction, at which point Eragon cut off the spell. They continued down the road, still cautious and still paranoid. They reached the dilapidated farm and the feeling returned. Eragon was called toward the cleared area where he had raised Saphira as a baby. It brought a smile to his face just thinking about it. And he barely had time to wipe the smile off his face when he saw what was in front of him.

Arya saw Eragon and Murtagh weave their way through an old, decaying farm. She wondered where they were headed, and she followed them. Keeping her distance for now, she watched them go to a clearing at the far end of the property. They froze, and she knew something was wrong. Peering closer between the trees, she saw what had stopped them. And she was horrified.

**Thanks for reading, hope you liked it. Again, please review! :) :D :P**


	29. Meeting the King

**I want to thank everyone who read my story. Sorry it took me a few days to get this chapter up, but I have a very busy schedule, and I ended up occupied with other things. I really hope you enjoy it! **

There he stood before them, looking amused with their utter surprise. He was a tall man, taller than either Eragon or Murtagh. His head was shaved, and his eyes were like glinting knives with their cold, grey stare. He wore the garments of a king- that was sure- and it seemed he had tried to wear the most expensive clothing he owned. Which was very expensive, because he was the king, King Galbatorix, and he took as much money as he could from the people of Alagaesia.

Eragon tried to think of ways to make him seem less powerful as he instinctively threw the walls up around his mind. It was difficult, because the man was extremely powerful thanks to the Eldunari from which he stole power. All Eragon could do was wonder how much strength this man had and then decide for himself whether he had enough strength to put up a fight. He looked over at Murtagh, who seemed a little less terrified than he, but that was saying nothing, for Eragon was scared out of his mind.

He wanted so badly to talk to Saphira: both to find out if she was okay and to ask her for help, or even just to feel her presence. But he could not. Already, he was struggling to keep every part of his mind closed tightly to the king. One slip, and he was sure the king would notice it and shoot between the crack. If that happened, everything he had trained for, everything that Alagaesia had hoped for in him, all of it would be done.

"At last, the mighty Shadeslayer arrives," Galbatorix said with a sneer. "You have eluded me for some time, but now I have you. How does it feel to be caught, Rider?" Eragon said nothing. What could he say? How could he answer the question without pushing himself further down the food chain?

Murtagh spoke up. "We will never be your prisoners."

"Ah, yes. Murtagh, the one who escaped. Have we not heard enough of you in history? It's time to back down. You have already been caught." Under his breath, he spoke a quick word and Murtagh was unconscious. He snapped his fingers, and a few men came to his side in an instant. "I have no use for this one. Take him away. But do not kill him; no, let us make him suffer. Bind him over there. Take the dragon." Some men backed Thorn behind the trees, where a low rumble came, followed by a screech. He turned to Eragon. "And as for you, I have many things for which I can use you."

Eragon instinctively threw up a brick wall around his mind, harder than before. Perhaps I may actually keep him out, he thought. A vast consciousness pushed and shoved at the wall, but it did not enter. And then it happened. He saw, from behind the trees, a flash of pale skin. He realized what it was: Arya.

Arya? What was she doing here? In that one moment, a crack formed in the brick wall, and Galbatorix seized the opportunity to enter his mind. Within that moment, as Eragon realized it was over, the king spoke one word, and Eragon dropped to the ground. He saw the world fade around him, as though all the color was seeping into the ground and leaving the land as a mixture of darkening grays. And then his consciousness left him, and his eyes closed.

Arya gasped as she saw him collapse. In that moment, when Eragon saw her, she knew it was all over. As he fell, the hopes and dreams of Alagaesia fell just as hard. What she soon realized was that she didn't even care about everyone else's hopes. Eragon, the one she loved, the only one that could make this sorrowful world worth living in, was gone, and it was all her fault. The king had him now, and it would be next to impossible to get him back ever again. Murtagh changing sides had been enough of a miracle.

A tear dripped down her cheek, and she brushed it away angrily. How dare he do something so terrible? Galbatorix is a disgrace to Dragon Riders, she thought, a disgrace to all people.

She watched as a monstrous dragon came into her line of sight between the trees. It was the king's dragon…the dragon the king used. Tied to it was Murtagh's dragon, looking limp and submissive. The king's men mounted their horses, but Galbatorix got on his dragon and pulled the limp Eragon up with him. With that, the dragon launched itself into the air with one solid flap, Murtagh's dragon in tow, and the soldiers galloped off on their chargers. For a moment, the clearing and the surrounding woods were silent.

Arya waited, unsure if the area was safe and wary to try to find out. She sat utterly still, blending in with the trees as only an elf can. It was at that point that she heard something.

A sound like struggling arose from not too far away. She realized instantly what it was. Or, more appropriately, who it was. Murtagh! They left him behind! Still cautions, she slid out from behind a large pine tree and found him. He was against an oak-a very old one- and not happy about it. He looked very tired.

"Why those horrible, flea-bitten-", he exclaimed, along with many more names that should not be repeated. Then, he saw Arya, and he stopped. "What are you doing here?" He looked angry, but she did not return with such a look.

"You're right. What am I doing here? I'm due for a meeting with Nasuada very soon. Well, I suppose I had better go then…" She trailed off.

"No, wait. Could you," he paused, his pride injured. "Could you help me?"

"Only if you help me get Eragon back."

"What?"

"You must help me get that boy back. We both know he is in even worse trouble than usual, and it will take a miracle to get him out of it." She took out her knife and cut him loose.

Murtagh wondered why the elf princess had come back. No matter what, he was grateful she had. Normally, he could have used magic to escape, but the king had left him very weak and tired, so he dared not even try. And the worst part was, they had taken Thorn. He called out to his dragon, but there was no reply. He might already be too far away to hear him. If he had not had a solid mind at that point, he would have sobbed until the day he died. Galbatorix would almost certainly kill Thorn the first chance he got. But he knew that this was not the time.

Now it was, in fact, time to go to the Varden. In a way, he dreaded it, but it had to be done. He didn't like to admit it, but he had feelings for Nasuada, and that made him more ready to go. Now was the time for action, for the one who was to save Alagaesia needed saving.

**Thank you again for reading my story! Please, if you can, review and tell me what I can do better. It will help me become a better writer, and will be very pleased with any advice you can give me. Stay tuned; I'll be updating soon! **


	30. Saving the Rider

Saphira had caught up with the king before he even got a couple miles away. The dull-dark-black-Shruikan, had not even noticed her yet, and it was her goal to keep it that way. She would never admit it to anyone, not even Eragon, but that dragon scared her. Much bigger than she, he was one of the only ones she felt she could not fight…and come out alive.

Shruikan was the one thing that kept her from attacking them, which is why she followed close behind, flying lower so he could not see her. Thorn had noticed her, though, and she hoped he would not give her away. Letting the warm air lift her wings, she glided a bit.

It would have been a perfect day for flying, if her heart were not filled with rage. Eragon, partner-of-her-mind-and-heart-Eragon, was gone from her, brought so low by the egg-breaker-traitor. But she could not rage on about it, as two-legs sometimes would; she needed to save her anger for when she would slay all those terrible people.

When Eragon was gone, a part of her would leave as well. It hurt her worse to know that he was just within her reach. From the moment she had hatched, she had been with him, and so she needed him to feel complete.

Before she even noticed how long she had been travelling, she saw a dark city on the horizon. Adjusting her wings, she flapped one powerful flap and let the currents of air pull her high into the sky so that she was looking down on the two dragons. _Eragon, _she said, though she was speaking only to herself, _you just cannot keep yourself out of trouble._

Roran was about to leave for Carvahall when Arya's green dragon breezed laboriously into the Varden's camp. Has Eragon returned? He wondered. Where's Saphira? He worried about his cousin.

Quickly, he made his way to the edge of camp, where he met Arya and… "You!" He exclaimed. It had taken him a moment to realize it, but that was Murtagh next to her. He knew what this man had done to his cousin and to everyone by working for the king. In fact, he might be here to ruin lives right now, but he didn't know for sure. He looked so honest, as if he wanted everyone to trust him, even though that was nearly impossible. Whether he meant well or not, Roran still had anger in his mind toward Murtagh, so he glared.

"Peace, cousin, I don't mean anything against you."

"I'm not your cousin," Roran said with a growl to his voice.

"Close enough," he argued. "Roran, I know you absolutely hate me. Pretty much everyone does. Anything I've ever done that has hurt you, I didn't mean…most likely. I didn't sign up to work for Galbatorix, and I don't like anything about him. Nothing. So please, can you give me a chance?" He held out his hand.

Roran didn't trust him; he'd seen enough traps lately to be cautious. Arya gave him a look, like he should accept. He couldn't understand why Eragon was in love with this woman; she was so demanding but hard to follow at the same time. _Maybe it's easier if you can use magic. Elves are magical creatures. _He shook Murtagh's hand, though a bit begrudgingly, and addressed Arya. "Where's Eragon? Is he all right?" She shook her head gravely.

"The king took him back to Uru'baen. We've come to gather provisions before flying to the city, but we must first see Nasuada. Will you come with us?" It was a bit of an honor to be asked to fight with someone of such high power, but he tried not to show that on his face.

"Of course. When do we leave?"

"If all goes well," Murtagh told him, "We leave at dawn." _If all goes well, _he thought grimly. _Nothing ever seems to go well these days._

Saphira flew with little caution into the black city. Her sapphire wings cast a blue tinted shadow on the ground, but she did not care if it gave away her presence. Whether she hid or not, a fight would occur before she left this place. Why hide herself like a coward?

She planned to surprise them all, so she flew in lower before they could even see what was coming. But it was she who was surprised. Upon every rooftop in the dark-cold-traitor-Uru'baen stood dozens of archers. Shruikan nearly knocked Thorn out of the air as he whirled around, the king sitting powerfully on his back with Eragon behind him. Oh, how she wished he were with her, so they could share each other's strength to fight.

She felt an invasion in her mind as Galbatorix spoke to her. _Give up, dragon. If you do not come quietly, I will kill him._

She stared at him, feeling as though every part of her was torn in half. She called to Eragon, almost forgetting that he was unconscious. There was no response. Perhaps he was lying. But perhaps not.

_Did you fail to hear me, dragon? Give up, or I __**will**__ kill him._ This time, she obeyed, landing on the ground. Without even the slightest struggle, common men took her away to the king's palace.

Lady Nasuada looked more stressed than Murtagh could find words to describe. Eragon was captured, Murtagh had returned, and a shape shifter, Sienna, as he found out her name was, had showed up just before a meeting began. He could see after less than a minute that Nasuada was afraid of the shape shifter.

Murtagh had liked Nasuada from the moment he had first met her, which was a while ago. He saw in her control, leadership, and most of all: beauty. She was brave, powerful, and harsh when she had to be but otherwise sweet. But he was very afraid to let on that he loved her, because of what his father had done and because he himself had been her enemy.

The meeting commenced, and Nasuada looked around the half-circle, nervously resting at last on the shape shifter. Obviously avoiding eye contact with her, she looked at Arya.

"How am I supposed to take this? That stupid boy dug himself too deep a hole this time. I don't know what we can do to help him. And what are you doing here?" Murtagh came out of his daze and realized the question was directed at him. He got up from his seat and knelt down in front of her.

"Lady Nasuada, I've come first of all to ask for your forgiveness," he answered. She looked at him inquisitively. "I want to promise that the things I've done to you and the Varden, they are all things I wish I could take back. Unfortunately, I can't, but you should know that I didn't want to do them, and had it been my choice, I would have sided with you the moment Thorn hatched for me." His voice cracked when he talked about his dragon, which might soon be gone.

"The second part goes with the first. I would like to promise fealty to you, and then I would serve you and the Varden faithfully. But before I swear that, I need to know if you will trust me."

She stared off for a moment, thinking. Then she replied, "I'm not sure I trust you completely, but the Varden could use your help. Prove to me that you aren't lying."

He spoke sincerely in the Ancient Language. The man who impersonated Brom had known his way around the language of truth, twisting his words, but Murtagh wasn't going to do that. He tried to be as specific as possible so she would know he wasn't lying.

"Lady Nasuada, I promise, upon my word as a Rider, that I speak the truth. I will be loyal to you and to the Varden for as long as I live." He knew that she would only know some of the words he said, so Arya told her the rest. She trusted Arya, and she nodded.

"I accept your promise and trust it to be true."


	31. Surviving the King

Surviving the King

Eragon soared through the air on the back of Saphira, and he should have been feeling the ecstasy of flying. The wind through his hair, the beat of his heart, and the dragon's shimmering scales should have enveloped him in a warm, happy feeling. The sight of the ground rush by far below him should have made him feel powerful and proud to be a Rider.

But it didn't.

All he could feel was absolute terror. He knew that Galbatorix had been toying with his mind for a long time…or was it only minutes? That was the terrifying part; the unknown. He didn't know what was real and what was only imagination. He could reach out and touch the wispy white clouds and pull his hand away wet with moisture, but it could just be his dream and he was really lying strapped to a cot in the middle of Uru'baen. There was no way of knowing.

His thoughts shrank back from the joy his body was experiencing, and he tried to rationalize the situation. How much of what he remembered had been real. He remembered fragments of things that seemed normal-if anything was normal these days- mixed with very strange things. Nothing was safe to consider fact; he didn't even consider what he knew about his own life to be fact, even before he was a Rider. Was he a Rider? What if nothing had ever existed but this moment now? What if even this moment was not real? It made him dizzy to think about.

It would be so easy to stray away from rational thought and succumb to the moment, one of his favorite times of his life, yet he refused. Being able to pull away from the moment helped him to decide it wasn't real. He viewed the world around him as an out of body experience, like a memory rather than life. Just then, Saphira flew into a swirling black cloud, and he could see nothing but grey vapor around him. He could feel himself spinning, and suddenly, he opened his eyes.

"Eragon. Eragon sweetheart, it's all right my son. You were only dreaming. My poor boy, you look scared half out of your wits. That must have been quite a nightmare."

_It still is I'm sure_, he thought unhappily, but then he looked around. He was in his room back in Carvahall, and it looked just the same as it had when he had still lived here. He turned his head turned the voice that had spoken, and he recognized the woman who spoke the words. She seemed so familiar and yet so unfamiliar at the same time. He saw in her eyes, face, and her mannerisms both his uncle and his own reflection, but of course more feminine. Yet he felt he didn't know her.

"You." He said.

"Well that's a way to greet your mother," she replied. "I got worried when you didn't come to eat. Usually you smell breakfast long before we call you and come running. Are you alright?"

"Perfect…" He said, feeling confused.

"Wonderful," she replied. "Get dressed and come to eat then." With a smile, she looked at him, ran her fingers through his hair, and left the room.

Eragon stood up and looked around. Sunlight streamed through the small window and one beam landed on a mirror. His movements felt somehow slower and more sluggish than usual as he went up to it and peered at his reflection. His eyes widened in surprise. Normally, his features were more angled and sharp…elf-like, thanks to the work of the dragons at the Blood-oath Celebration. Now they were softer and rounded as they had been before that day, as though it had never happened. _Never happened_. He thought about that and glanced at his palm. And let out a yelp. The gedwey ignasia on his hand was gone without a trace. _Never happened_. He sat on his bed again, his heart taking an audible plunge into his stomach. It couldn't be.

"Eragon? Are you alright? I heard you scream."

"Never happened. Where's Saphira?" He asked stupidly.

"Who?"

"She's a…well if she was around you'd know who she was. This isn't possible."

"What's not possible? Is that dream still bothering you? It was just a dream Eragon, I assure you."

He looked in the mirror again. "Just look at me!" He said.

"Yes, you're getting older by the minute," she said with a sad sigh.

"No, no I'm usually-you don't see the difference?"

"Eragon dear, are you feeling well?"

Actually, he was beginning to feel very sick inside. She touched his head, and feeling no fever, she exited, calling back to him "come eat, and perhaps you'll feel better." He followed her.

Uncle Garrow, apparently resurrected, already sat at the table with a plate of food in front of him. By now, Eragon was just used to strange sights, so he paid no mind to him. It was the old man in the corner he was focused on: another of the living dead. Brom. His skin was loose and sickly pale, and his dirty clothes hung loose around his deathly thin frame. He was silent, and he did not look up when we entered the room. He looked like he'd been taken out of the grave and set up just to scare people, but that was foolish.

"Good morning again Garrow, Brom."

"Good morning Selena. Hello Eragon," Garrow replied cheerily. Brom just grunted. He seemed a man who had gone so deeply into thought that thought itself had imprisoned him. Eragon sat down, trying to take his eyes off his father and focus on breakfast. The birds chirped outside, and the smell of spring-fresh flowers flooded his nose. Was this real? Could it be an illusion? The harsh battles and twists of his recent past seemed so far away now. Then he thought of something.

"Is Roran around anywhere?" Silence. Bitter silence.

"Eragon, you know the story. Roran isn't with us anymore."

"Where is he?" He asked. He knew the answer already, he just wanted desperately to be wrong.

"He was drafted to the king's army…and he was killed."

"No. No. You're lying. Don't play games with me like that. Where is he?" But she was firmly set in her statement. Garrow was eating his breakfast with renewed vigor as he tried to keep his obvious despair in check.

"It's true. He's gone," he told Eragon, and his voice trembled a bit.

"No, no, no." Eragon rushed outside, around the house, and into the woods. Running as fast as he could-which seemed strangely slow- he hurried to a hilly clearing just out of sight of the house. And what he saw there made him fall to pieces. A slightly raised patch of dirt sprinkled with rocks. One large rock stood at its head with words written on it. As he read the runes, he sobbed harder than ever.

_Here lies Roran Garrowsson_

_Son of Garrow, cousin of Eragon, nephew of Selena_

_May he lie in peace and undisturbed_

_Though his body decay, may the memory of him last forever_

Next to the stone lay flowers with a paper attached.

_Rest in peace Roran, my only love forever._

_~Katrina_

It couldn't be. It couldn't be! He wanted someone to come and agree with him, to say "you're right, Eragon, it can't be. No one did. More than anything, he wanted Saphira. _Saphira_! He called wordlessly, but he felt no mental connection to anything in the whole world.

No one could help him. He was lost forever. But as despair washed over him, he did the only thing he could think to do.

"All right Galbatorix!" he yelled to the heavens. "You've broken me. You win."

Now he could only hope that this world was only a fantasy.

**It's been a long time since I've written fan fiction, but now I've started up again. To anyone who read the story up until now and actually liked it: I apologize for making you wait and I hope you like this chapter. Please R&R. Thanks! :D**


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